Bounty Hunter
by SnippyandSnarky
Summary: Complete! Set after the 7th book. Voldemort is nearly defeated. A familar bounty hunter is picking off Death Eaters one by one. DMHP, SSHG.
1. Prologue

Title: Bounty Hunter

Rating: R-ish

Author: Snippy

Pairing: H/D, Hr/SS (a little)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. do not belong to me. Sadly.

Summary: Warning: dark fic, character death and H/D slash. This story is not light and hope and puppies, people. The bounty hunter is going after the Death Eaters one by one, but at what price? This story is not about black and white, it's about shades of grey. Can people change? Can a hero become a villain? Can a villain save a hero? And which is which?

* * *

Prologue: Ginny

The 22 year old man trudged through the woods. It was beyond the pitchest black among the heavy trees in the warm night, but he stepped as though he could see in the dark, lightly and accurately. For a moment, he paused to drag his hand across his face, before shifting slightly and melting into the tree in front of him. His eyes focused on a group of hooded men in the clearing ahead. Two of them held a struggling girl, their campfire sharpening the shadows and planes of her face and sparkling in her tears, the third stood in front of her, waving a wand menacingly at her trembling form. The man's expression never flickered as he reached behind him for his cross bow.

The first arrow flew through the man's neck. He fell to the ground, choking and gurgling as blood flooded his mouth and throat, his wand still tightly clutched in one hand. The other two men stared in shock for a moment. Then, one threw the girl down, muttering, "Imperio. Stay." They drew their wands and searched the woods warily from a defensive position, backs towards each other.

"It's him, Vince." The first one hissed.

"Shut up." He gripped his wand tighter. "There's no way he could have followed us this far."

"We never should have taken her." He was visibly shaking now, as he stared down at the red-haired girl in tattered robes. "We can lie to ourselves all we want. But we know who it is, that guy out there. Do you know how many of us he's killed?"

"Greg! Now is not the time."

"No, it's not." A voice sounded from just beyond the touch of the firelight.

"Cruc -" Before Vince could finish the curse, his wand jumped from his hand and he was thrown back several feet. When he tried to stand, the figure gestured swiftly and he found himself unable to move.

"Looks like you were right, Greg." The figure came closer to the waltzing light. "You never should have taken her."

"Who are you?" He narrowed his eyes at the cloaked man, feeling more afraid of this figure than of the full arsenal of dark arts curses.

"You see, Vince here, has a bounty on his head." The man ignored his question. "But you, *Greg*," His voice bit with bitterness over the name. "You, do not. Do you understand what I'm getting at?"

Greg shook his head, wishing he had tried to use his wand earlier, feeling frozen with fear. This shadow had been hunting them for three days, always just beyond their perception, always leaving them signs that he was near. Like food with a parchment instructing it be given to the girl. Or a snapped branch just when they thought they were alone. At first he had been irritated. Why not just rescue the girl and be done with it, if he could sneak into their camp without their knowledge? But the answer had become clear to him the moment he heard the ice in the man's voice. Here was no interest in being a hero. The man was playing with them, confident that he could take them whenever he wished. It was just a game.

"What I'm telling you is that I have no use for you . . .no need to keep you alive." The man stepped into the light, letting his hood fall back. "Avada Kedavra."

"Oh, Merlin." Greg gasped, raising his wand . . .too late. In a brilliant flash of green, his body hit the ground, next to his still gurgling master. The curse was repeated and they both lay still.

The man pointed at the petrified body of Vince, lifting it into the air and moving it to the far side of the fire. Then he turned to the girl and offered her a hand. She took it, standing up and wrapping her arms around herself. For a moment, she looked like she was going to embrace her savior, but in the next instant, turned away. "What? No hug, Ginny?"

"No."

"Oh, I'm hurt." He laughed, mockingly, as he settled by the fire. "I'll take you back in the morning, when I turn him in. We might as well stay here tonight."

"By the fire they were going to burn me on?" She gaped at him.

"Well, they're in no condition to burn you now are they?" He gestured to the bodies.

"Are you really going to sleep next to the corpses?" Her voice held a shocked tremor. He shrugged, it didn't bother him. After a moment in which Ginny looked like she might be sick, he sighed. "Fine. Incendio!"

In a matter of seconds both bodies were little more than ashes blowing away in the wind. Vince closed his eyes, unable to express his fear. Ginny felt tears well up in her eyes. "What happened to you?"

"I grew up." The man said shortly, before raising an eyebrow at her. "I just saved your life, y'know. Gratitude isn't necessary, but a refrain from criticism would be duly appreciated."

"Thank you," She shook her head, eyes still blinded by green light. "Harry."


	2. Chapter 1

Title: Bounty Hunter

Rating: R-ish

Author: Snippy

Pairing: H/D, Hr/SS (a little)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. do not belong to me. Sadly.

Summary: Warning: dark fic, character death and H/D slash. This story is not light and hope and puppies, people. The bounty hunter is going after the Death Eaters one by one, but at what price? This story is not about black and white, it's about shades of grey. Can people change? Can a hero become a villain? Can a villain save a hero? And which is which?

**

* * *

**Chapter One: The Boy Who Died

"So do you suppose your family will offer me a handshake for saving you before they kick me out?" Harry leaned back against a tree, his voice a mocking sneer that chilled her despite the muggy nature of the night around them.

Ginny Weasley stared at the boy who had been her hero. His black hair was longer now, a shaggy fringe that swayed around his face. His jaw was constantly clenched and now sported a dark shadow that slid over his chin and caressed his mouth, which was twisted in a smirk. His green eyes were still bright, and glittered, harder than the emeralds they had been compared to. Harder than diamonds. She pressed her lips into a tight line, refusing to answer him.

"Can't say I blame them, though. After all, I did kill their youngest son." He shrugged.

"Harry-" Tears filled her eyes.

"You wouldn't think they'd be so upset. After all, Ron was their fifth son. He was my first friend. Ever." He laughed softly, a harsh, dead sound. He looked up at her and for a second, he seemed lost, but his cruel veneer returned. "Why don't you sit down, Ginny? It wouldn't do to be jumpy around a killer."

"You're not a killer." She said softly.

"Oh, really?" His voice was so soft, it barely reached her ears, but the danger in his tone came across clearly. He slowly stood, walking over to her with a grace that his exuberance in his younger years had never allowed. Harry stopped before her, gently tucking the tip of his wand under the corner of her jaw. "Do you know what I've done with this? Do you know how many times I've seen that green light fly at my command?" He dropped the wand to wrap a hand around her throat. Ginny started to tremble as she struggled to control her breathing, a sharp edge of fear slicing through her stomach. "Do you know what I've done with my bare hands?" She shook her head.

"No, you don't. You and I both know that I've killed people." She nodded, biting her lip. "What you don't know, Ginny," He brushed his lips against her ear, "Is how much I enjoyed it."

A tear rolled down her cheek. Disgusted with himself, Harry released her and returned to his spot by the fire. "Go to bed. I'll take you home tomorrow morning."

"A-are you, uh," She took a deep breath. "Are you going to s-s-stay -"

"Now, Ginny." He gave her an admonishing look. "You and I both know that I've been exiled from the Burrow." He smiled, the expression a distortion of what it should be. "Besides, I have a new assignment to start."

"Who is it?"

"Another Death Eater." He replied shortly. "I know you're a Weasley, and this is probably a statistical impossibility, but do you think you could stop talking and go to sleep now?"

Ginny sat down, across from him, losing herself in thought for a moment. She tried not to look over at Vince, still paralyzed, eyes seeing nothing. A lot had changed in the past few years. Hogwarts had closed for the duration of

the war, and many of the students had been sent to American Wizard schools to keep them safe, while their parents and older siblings joined the fight. Her mother had stopped laughing the day that Ron died, and Fred and George rarely returned home, preferring to stay with Charlie, protecting the dragons. So many had already died, on both sides of the war. She spent most of her time in the medi-wizard hospital, tending to injuries of those who fought. But the one who had changed the most was the boy she sat across from, the boy she had used to be in love with. Age and experience had changed that, but she still loved him, missed him. She missed him almost as much as she missed Ron. And laughter.

Harry's eyes were closed. He was so till that the trees around him appeared to be dancing in contrast. Ginny studied him openly as she crouched by the fire. Was he asleep? Did he kill one moment and peacefully rest the next?

"What is it?" Only his lips moved.

"I was wondering if you were asleep." She ventured.

"I don't sleep."

"Oh." She knew she should give up and hope the night passed quickly. But she might never have the chance to talk to him again. "Harry?"

"Yes?" His eyes flickered open, skewering through her soul.

"Was it because Sirius died?" She asked, her heart thundering.

"What part of go to sleep confused you?"

"But you were a great auror, everyone's hero, and now . . ." She cut herself off.

"And now?" His voice vibrated with contained irritation. "Now, everyone's afraid of me."

"Yes." She replied quietly. "And I want to know why."

"Alright Ginny. You wanna know what happened to the Boy Who Lived? Come here and I'll tell you." She seemed frozen to the spot. "Move or I'll move you."

Slowly she edged closer. When she was in arm's reach he seized her wrists and pulled her impatiently towards him, forcing her to kneel beside him, and holding her hands loosely in his lap. "Are you afraid of me, Ginny?"

"A little."

"Good. Now, listen closely, I don't repeat myself." He smiled cruelly. "And when I die, you'll have the story of the century."

Ginny's hands shook, though his were still wrapped around them. Once, she would have been trembling with excitement that he was holding her hands. Now, it was fear that made her shiver. She gripped his hands back and nodded for him to continue, mentally trying to reassure herself that somewhere inside this man was Harry, and he would never hurt her.

"The Dursley's made it clear I wasn't welcome back once I was of age. But that was ok. I had a full year at Hogwarts ahead of me, my last year. The second day of school, Peter Pettigrew tortured and killed my godfather. The ministry generously cleared his name the day before the war broke out. As you will recall, Ron invited me to stay at the Burrow, but I didn't want to add to your parent's burdens. Remus Lupin took me in.

"Remus was quiet, withdrawn, but angry. The wolf's bane potion could barely reign him in. He started inviting Old Mad Eye Moody over a lot. They taught me about the Dark Arts, and we got to be friends, a family of sorts. It became clear to me that Remus was planning revenge. We worked the Unforgivable Curses under a cloaking spell at night, and he used to say to me, 'Carpe Noctem, Harry.'"

"Seize the Night?"

"Yes." Harry's eyes flashed. "Halloween - he decided to make his move. Maybe I should have stopped him. I was scared for him, and I was afraid of losing him. But when he left, all I said was, 'Carpe Noctem, Remus.' It wasn't until he was gone that I noticed the full bottle of potion by his bed." Ginny gasped, realizing the implications of that statement. "He succeeded. He killed Peter, but before he could get away, Lucius Malfoy showed up and killed him while he was still in his wolf state. I made up my mind that Lucius would never hurt anyone again. So I set out to kill him. Ron - "

"Wouldn't let you go alone."

Harry nodded. "We promised Hermione that we wouldn't touch Lucius." He laughed coldly. "Well, we didn't have to touch him to kill him." Harry looked

over Ginny's head, eyes searching the shadows, but only seeing the past. "We hid in the woods behind Malfoy Manor. I have no idea how that bastard found us. Ron was shaking beside me as the duel started." Harry's lips twisted. "I think he was going to beat me later for learning so many Dark spells without telling him. He never got the chance. I stepped into the opening and told Ron to run. Malfoy closed in on me, he cast the killing curse. I refused to turn away - wanted to see it coming, but I must've closed my eyes for a second, because the next thing I saw was Ron's body on the ground. He was just gone, his body was empty. I felt this anger building inside of me. I yelled, 'Crucio!' and Malfoy crumpled down. I watched him twitching in pain awhile, and when I took it off, he couldn't move. That's when I called the snakes. Boomslangs. They slithered over him, and bit him just like I asked them too. I stayed to watch him die. It took most of the night."

"Harry, stop -" She began, horrified.

"No - you wanted to know." His grip turned painful for a second. "When I brought Ron's body back to the Burrow, your mom wouldn't look at me. Your dad took the body and asked me to leave. Fred and George made it clear I shouldn't come back."

"I never blamed you."

"Then you're a little idiot." Harry declared icily. "I read in the papers that Narcissa committed suicide and Draco vanished. Around then, Hermione started working with the Aurors to invent new protection spells. I moved in with Moody and started fighting, every day. We worked with a handful of others as a seek and destroy squad. We got reports from spies about where to find them, and we took them out. There was a brutal attack on the ministry headquarters and Hermione was taken. I tried to stop them. I killed five of them trying to get her, I snapped the last one's neck with my bare hands. That was Blaise Zabini - you remember him? The whole thing was a set up, a distraction. They were really after Dumbledore, and they almost had him, but Hagrid stepped in the way." For a moment Harry's eyes glistened, but no tears came. "We buried him next to Fang."

"Fang?" She asked softly. "They killed his dog?"

"For laughs." Harry grimaced. "Two months later Draco exposed Snape as a spy and turned him in. That same day, Oliver Wood was found with a broken neck. It was made to look like an accident, but we all knew the truth. Wood would never just fall off his broom. Besides, he had that green look in his eyes." Harry looked back into her face. "When someone is hit with the killing

curse, it leaves a light in their eyes. A dead light. I continued the fight. Everyday, at Moody's side, stepping over the bodies of former Hogwart's students to cast curses that none of us should have ever learned." He paused again, releasing one hand to cup her chin and turn her face up to his. "How did you spend last Christmas, Ginny? With your family? At the Burrow?"

"With what's left of it." She replied harshly.

"Mmm." He was unfazed by her animosity. "I suppose you had dinner, opened presents? Took Ron's sweater to his grave. Did you cry? I guess you did. I didn't have time for mourning. I spent the morning recovering from multiple hits of Cruciatus. It gets easier to recover from it every time, you know." His tone was casual. "I spent the afternoon burying my friends. Seamus, Colin, Terry, Cho." His eyes filled with a hate so powerful it took her breath. "Moody."

"We promised him we would rescue Snape and Hermione, or whatever's left of them. And destroy Voldemort, if we had to take out every Death Eater one by one to do so. I'm the last one left of those aurors." His voice lightened. "I've been hunting down important Death Eaters, one by one, ever since."

"That's why you came after Crabbe and Goyle, and -"

"No." Harry's voice softened. "I hunted them because they took you."

"Oh, Harry - "

"You Weasley's are the only family I've got left, even if you do hate me. But tomorrow, you go back, this little vacation's over, and I go back to what I do."

"Who's next?" She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Well, Peter and Lucius are dead. That leaves one person in my path to Voldemort."

"So, there's only one person in your way?" She bit her lip, trying to figure out who it was.

"Yes, only one. And I don't let anything get in my way."

Her eyes lit up with realization. "You don't mean - "

"Draco." Harry's eyes caught fire. "The Last Malfoy."

**

* * *

**Harry frowned. He should never have told her all of that. It felt good to finally tell someone, but she didn't need to carry that burden. He shrugged, life was hard, maybe she should just get used to it. He was just so enraged by the innocence in her face. Why did she get to stay young? Remain hopeful and idealistic? Why did she get the right to hate him for changing? Without having any idea what it was like to make the decisions he made on a daily basis? He had felt the need to strike out and erase that innocence. Now, he felt guilty. He sighed, reaching into his leather bag and producing two apples, he tossed them both in her lap.

"Aren't you hungry?" She asked, still feeling shaken by his story.

"I don't eat." He turned towards the fire. "Not much, anyways."

Ginny Weasley was still young, but she was every bit Molly Weasley's daughter. She was strong, and she refused to be intimidated. She bit into an apple, and as she chewed decided on a light, casual tone. "So, you don't sleep, and you don't eat. What do you do, Harry?"

"I hunt." He turned cold eyes on her. "Do you ever shut up?"

"We used to be friends, Harry." Those wide brown eyes hurt to look at.

"Used to be." He looked her over, critically, more to embarrass her than out of interest. Bruised, dirty and tired, she was still a beauty. Fair skin, lightly dusted with freckles over her small, pert nose. Wide, warm brown eyes, thick straight hair a shade deeper red than her brothers. "You grew up well."

"Wish I could say the same about you." She watched him run a hand through his rumpled hair, the gesture reminiscent of the Harry she used to know. He was still handsome, though leaner and darker then he used to be. He had lost his shine. Perhaps the light inside of him was dead now. Yet, she had caught a glimpse of it, a more sinister cast of his passion, when he had talked about Draco. She shivered. Somewhere in there was the Harry that had saved her from the basilisk in her first year. After all, he had saved her from the trio of Death Eaters, hadn't he? Or had he made that up? After all, he had said he was only interested in the bounty on their heads, right? No, she refused to accept that. Deep down, Ginny still believed in Harry Potter. "So, you never answered my question, exactly. What happened to the boy who lived?"

"He was lost after the boy who died." Harry settled himself back against his tree. "Go to sleep, Ginny."

She settled down by the fire. "Harry?"

"Yes?" He sighed.

"Thank you."

"You already thanked me for saving you."

"No." She closed her eyes. "Thank you for killing Lucius."

His eyes glittered in the dark. "My pleasure."


	3. Chapter 2

Title: Bounty Hunter

Rating: R-ish

Author: Snippy

Pairing: H/D, Hr/SS (a little)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. do not belong to me. Sadly.

Summary: Warning: dark fic, character death and H/D slash. This story is not light and hope and puppies, people. The bounty hunter is going after the Death Eaters one by one, but at what price? This story is not about black and white, it's about shades of grey. Can people change? Can a hero become a villain? Can a villain save a hero? And which is which?

* * *

Chapter Two: The Last Malfoy

Draco threw open the kitchen doors, knocking over two house elves in the process. He demanded, imperiously, "Is my lunch ready yet?"

"Yes, yes, Master Malfoy!" A crawling figure dragged a heavy canvas bag towards him, offering it while simultaneously trying to cringe away.

He opened the bag and surveyed its contents. Four apples, half a wheel of cheese, a large container of milk, two large sesame rolls and two bars of chocolate. He smirked. Quite a lot of food, even for a growing Death Eater, he thought. "This will do, but I expect more tomorrow!"

He swept down the hall, sack in hand. Black jeans, a black v-neck sweater with a snake emblem over his heart, touch boots and enough arrogance to make his father look humble, Draco Malfoy was Voldemort's dream of a successor. Brutally handsome, sinisterly charming, and more clever than Rowena Ravenclaw, he had fought his way to the top of the Death Eaters. Ever since Potter had killed his father, he was Voldemort's Favorite, and he had every intention of keeping it that way until his plans had come to fruition.

Draco headed down a dark corridor, stepped through a shimmering mirror and down the steps to the dungeon. Two hulking forms guarded a dismal cell. They almost reminded him of Crabbe and Goyle. He frowned. His two former friends had been caught by the Bounty Hunter, one of them killed, the other to be held at Azkaban until his trial. He had a suspicion who that bounty hunter was, but he was keeping it to himself for now.

"You may leave now." He waved his hand dismissively.

"Master Malfoy, I'm not sure that's wise. What with all the recent attacks, we were told to be on high alert." The first one worried.

"You dare to question my orders?" He asked slowly in a low tone.

"I - I didn't mean nothing by it. I just don't think - "

"Exactly. You're not paid to think. You're paid to do what I say." He pulled his wand out of his sleeve. "Perhaps you need a demonstration in how to obey your superiors?"

"No! No, sir! We're leaving!" His companion spoke up, grabbing the first guard by the arm and heading for the stairs. "We'll make sure that you're not disturbed, sir!"

"See that you do." Draco turned his back on them, waiting for the bells that signified someone stepping through the mirror. He surveyed the two captives within the cell, as the guards scurried up the steps. They sat together, backs against the wall, leaning into each other for comfort and most likely, warmth. They kept their heads down, gazing at the floor. As he watched, Severus Snape reached out and entwined his hand with Hermione's. Draco smiled a little. "Hmm, you appear to be moving. Guess you're still alive."

Hermione's head shot up. "Not going to die until I see you taken down, Malfoy."

"Never happen."

"Then we're both gonna be alive for a very long time." Snape squeezed her hand as he spoke.

Draco glared at them. "I see my starvation tactics aren't enough yet. We'll try something new." He removed his wand and pointed it at the top of the stairs where the back of the mirror could be seen, shining. A silver coating like frost spread over the room, covering it with a slight crunching sound. Draco opened the cell and stepped inside. "Ah, alone at last."

"Draco, you're a little too good at being evil." Hermione commented, trying to control her shaking from the cold.

"I was bred to be a Death Eater." His eyes smiled at her. He produced two blankets, and wrapped one about her shoulders, offering the other to his mentor. "Hungry?"

"Starving." She handed the bag to Severus as she pulled the blanket tighter around her. "Are you going to take the blanket back?"

"No, it's yours. I'll tell them you need it to ward off shock or something. Wouldn't do to have the prisoners die before they can be bargained with." Draco suddenly looked very tired. "I'm sorry I couldn't bring you more food."

"It's ok." Snape said gruffly as he divided up the food. "This is more than you should be risking."

"He's getting more desperate day by day. Three more Death Eaters put out of commission last night. It's almost over and he knows it." Draco sighed. He watched Snape give Hermione the larger apples, the softer roll, the bigger part of the cheese. The two had been locked up together for Merlin knows how long, and the old Potions Master was very protective of the former Gryffindor.

"The Bounty Hunter?" Hermione asked softly, taking a quick sip of the milk before passing it to Snape.

"Yes." Draco said shortly, fighting a shiver. "He has vowed to take down every top order Death Eater standing between him and Voldemort."

"How many more are they?" She asked curiously, reaching for a hunk of cheese. "Top order Death Eaters, I mean."

"One."

"Who's left. . .you?" Hermione gasped. "But you're a double agent."

"I am a Death Eater to the rest of the world. It's not like I can just tell everyone I'm not." Draco pointed out.

"But you can tell *him*." Hermione insisted. "Draco, you can't let this guy come after you. From what I've heard, he's little more than a hired killer. They say he's barely even human!"

"Hermione, calm down. Draco knows what he's doing." Snape shushed her, taking her hand again.

Hermione tried to take comfort in Severus' assurances, but she knew that he was not beyond bending the truth to make her feel better. The two of them had grown close, spending endless days with little other distraction than the other's company. They talked through the long hours and ceaseless nights. He told her about his school days, how he had first become a Death Eater, then a spy, then a teacher. She confessed the many mischiefs she, Harry and Ron had committed, including a few that involved him directly. She told him about her Muggle parents, and how afraid for them she was. She cried over classmates she had lost. She cried over Ron, and the vanishing of Harry Potter. The paper assumed that he was dead, killed with the rest of Moody's aurors on the Christmas Day Massacre. Severus listened to her ramble on for hours. And sometimes, when her nightmares made her cry in her sleep, she woke up cuddled in his arms, his low voice oddly soothing in the dark. The day he had been thrown into her cell, she had been both horrified and relieved. She was upset that he had been caught, worried about what they might do to a traitor, but another part of her was pleased to have a companion. She was also pleased that he had been put under Malfoy's control.

The first day she had been caught, she had been terrified, not knowing what the Death Eaters would do or what would happen to her. She had been thrown in a carriage, her hands and feet tied and deposited in the foyer of a large mansion. Hermione had looked up to see Draco Malfoy lounging in a chair. He had laughed at her and ordered her to be thrown in the dungeons. Later he had appeared with a cup of cold water. After that, he had personally taken over her captivity, excusing it to his Death Eater peers as an old school vendetta, and protecting her from some of the nastier parts of captivity. Snape had been placed in his cell because he was the one who had turned him in. And every day since then, Draco had been sneaking them food and supplies in the guise of torture. Hermione had grown fond of the former Slytherin. He was irritating, vain, arrogant, and caustic as ever, but underneath, he was not as evil as she had thought. Not necessarily a 'good' guy, but not the power hungry Jr. Death Eater she had imagined him to be. And she didn't want him killed by some bounty hunter that had used the Death Eater's scare as an excuse for vigilante justice.

"I'd better go." Draco grimaced. "I have an important meeting tonight."

"Be careful, Draco." Hermione bit into her lower lip, pulling her blanket closer around her. Severus remained silent, but his eyes echoed her sentiment.

"Aw, worried about me, princess?" He drawled, jumping to his feet.

"Worried about tomorrow's lunch." She shot back, standing to face him. Impulsively, she pulled the blond into a quick hug. "Don't let the bounty hunters bite."

"I'll make sure to bite back if they do." He pulled away from her abruptly, angry at himself for accepting any measure of affection, no matter how small.

Hermione had the strange thought that it was his first hug, but it couldn't be, could it? He stepped out of the cell and ended the cloaking spell, calling for the guards. Severus hid the rest of the food, while Hermione crumpled on the floor, breathing raggedly as if in pain. The guards took their position, trying not to stare at Draco, as they wondered what he had done in their absence.

As they watched, Severus scooped Hermione up, pretending to check her over. Holding her close, he glared at Draco. "I hate you."

"I care," Draco said with mock concern. When he turned around again, all emotion was gone from his face. He slouched lazily, and lit a vanilla cigarette. A sneer settled over his mouth, as he exhaled. "So, was it good for you, professor?"

Not waiting for a reply, Draco sauntered up the stairs and out of the dungeon. Once upstairs he ran into the bathroom and splashed cool water on his face. He knew that it was all a game. Hermione, Severus, himself, they were all pretending. But sometimes when he caught his own sneer in the window, his stomach heaved. He hated who he was supposed to become, and even though he was a spy for the good team, he still saw his father in his features and it not only disgusted him, it frightened him. Sometimes he thought Hermione was right. He was a little too good at being evil.

* * *

Harry sipped his coffee, stirring the fire aimlessly with a stick as the sun rose around him. He had slept for a couple of hours before daylight, and felt more rested than he had in weeks. He needed to take Vince to the ministry and collect his money. His eyes lit on the sleeping girl next to the fire. And he needed to take Ginny back to the Burrow. He wished he could send her back via floo powder from the ministry, but all the fireplaces had been closed to stop the movement of Death Eaters. Besides, he had to face the Weasleys sometime. And he wanted to make sure that he delivered this Weasley straight into her family's arms, alive and well.

He drained his coffee, and refilled it with a flick of his wand. It was hot and bitter. He closed his eyes and for a second he was back at Hogwarts, reaching for a glass of pumpkin juice, still half asleep, and wishing he could skip classes to play quidditch with Ron. He opened his eyes and took another sip of coffee. He no longer had time for daydreams, or even pleasant memories. He had a . . .mission? He frowned. No, that wasn't quite right. Killing Voldemort, rescuing his friends, it was more than a mission. It was more than vengeance for Ron, or closure for Moody. He had a quest, he decided. Quest. He rolled his eyes at himself. "Good show, Potter. You're a hired killer, and still you try to play the part of the hero."

"You are a hero, Harry." A small voice sounded behind him.

"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you, Gin?" He smirked at her. Then he drained the last out of his tin cup and offered it to her. "I don't have much besides coffee for breakfast, but there's some sugar in my bag to make it sweeter, if you like. Don't take too long. I've gotta lot to do today."

She took the cup from his hand and reached for the pot over the fire. In an instant, a warm band of steel held her wrist. She looked up into Harry's eyes. "Be careful, that's hot." He released her hand and filled her cup with a flick of his wand. "Wouldn't want you to get burned."

Ginny rummaged through his bag, trying not to be shocked at the amount of crossbow bolts, sharp knives and potions he had stored in there. She dumped a liberal amount of sugar into her coffee before taking a sip. "What is all this?"

"Why, they appear to be weapons!" Harry feigned shock.

"So, do you have a plan?"

"Yeah. I'm going to turn Vince, here, in," He paused to glance at the still petrified body. "Collect my money, drop you back into the waiting arms of your parents and head towards Malfoy Manor."

"No, that's not what I meant." She frowned. He was talking about her like she was a sweater her parents had misplaced. "Wait a minute - drop me? You're really not coming in?"

"Ha! What, do I look like I have a death wish?"

"Yes."

"Fair enough. But I have stuff to do first." He said flatly. "I'll make sure you get there safe and sound. But I can't . . .won't go in."

"But, they'll want to thank you." She pleaded. "I know they will."

"Sure they will, sweetie. Right before they bury me. Far away from their son." He grinned. "Finish your coffee."

She finished up, a frown twisting her features from the bitterness of the brew. Harry pointed his wand at Vince, forcing the body to follow them, grabbed his sack and headed out, Ginny trailing behind him. "Harry?"

"Yes?" He sighed deeply.

"I mean . . .earlier, I was going to ask you . . .how do you plan to kill Voldemort?" She asked hesitantly.

"Slowly." His laughter carried over the forest's hills.

* * *

Draco laid back on his down comforter, staring up at his ceiling. Later tonight, he would have to go meet the Dark Lord. He would probably be given orders that would turn his stomach. And he would probable carry them out. Of course, he would send an encoded message to the ministry so they could try to stop him. He laughed, bitterly. Thwarting oneself could be so tiring. He briefly considered the bounty hunter. Could it really be Potter? Was Potter capable of the acts the bounty hunter had committed?

The reports in the papers were sensationalizing things as they always did. The bounty hunter was a shadow, a ghost, a breeze in the night. He swept in, killed without compunction, without hesitation, without regret. He only showed mercy for a price. He brought in Death Eaters aurors had been trying to lay their hands on for years. They never saw him coming. He was indestructible. He could fight off Imperious, was unfazed by Cruciatus, and deflected Avada Kedavra. He was more than a legend. He was a myth. But he was real. And if Draco was right, he was coming for him.

He wasn't really worried about being caught. He was worried about what would happen to Hermione and Severus under someone else's care. Draco closed his eyes. He didn't want anything to happen to Hermione, but he didn't think he could live with himself if something happened to Snape. It was his fault he had been caught. All his fault. Staring blindly, his mind drifted back to the worst day of his life.

* * *

Draco pulled his Death Eater's cloak tighter around his body, chilled as he walked through the woods in the early morning. The sun had not yet risen, but the world was starting to lighten. He stared at the blood on his boots as he walked, idly wondering if they would come clean. At his side was Severus Snape, his mentor.

"Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy?" Severus put a large hand on his shoulder. They had spent the night watching Death Eater's torture muggles for pleasure. And they hadn't lifted a finger to stop them. It was the hardest part of being a spy, and the young Malfoy seemed to be taking it hard. He kept staring at his feet, his expression twisted in disgust.

"I have no love of muggles. I never have." He sneered, sounding like his father. "I was just hoping my boots would come clean."

Snape looked taken aback for a second. Sometimes Draco was a little too believable. "I see."

A few steps later, Draco dropped to his knees, his stomach heaving, the facade gone. "In the name of Merlin, does it have to smell like that?"

Snape crouched beside him. He slowly rubbed his back with one hand, pushing a potion in front of the young man's face. "Here, inhale this."

Draco breathed in the sharp scent. It was clean, spicy, lemony and it cleared his head. "Thank you."

"I threw up a lot the first few months, too. And I wasn't even one of the good guys, then." Snape almost smiled, helping him to his feet.

They were almost out of the woods when there came a loud clamor behind them. Exchanging a dread-filled look, they both turned and ran towards the sound. In a clearing, were several death eaters, obviously returning from the same dark revel. And in their midst, was a bruised and cursing Oliver Wood. Draco's heart fell out of his chest. He had spent the night watching people he had known all his life cause pain, and take the lives of strangers. He had watched Vince kill a girl who couldn't have been more than fourteen. He didn't think he could watch them kill Oliver.

"Look what we got!" Gregory Goyle held onto Oliver, shoving him forward for Snape's inspection. The other young Slytherins puffed out their chest with pride.

"Nice job, boys. Where are the rest of them?"

"Rest of who?" Crabbe asked confused.

"You don't really think he'd come alone, do you? How stupid do you think they are?" Snape sighed as if exasperated. "Give him to me, and fan out. Search the whole area. Where there's one, there's more."

"We knew that. We were just waiting for someone to keep an eye on him." Crabbe elbowed Goyle, who tugged Oliver over to Snape. Severus took out his wand and cast imperious on Wood, with a sneer at the others.

"Go, you fools! Before they escape and come back with reinforcements." He shouted. They ran back into the woods, each going a different direction. Snape turned to Draco. He had seen the look on his face. "It'll be ok."

"It will not!" Draco tried not to yell. "They're going to kill him!"

Snape shook his head and released Oliver from the imperious. "No, they're not."

"Get away from me!" Oliver backed away from Snape, drawing his wand. He whirled on Malfoy. "I always knew you'd become one of the Dark Lord's lackeys. I'm going to see you in prison, Malfoy."

"Shut up, Oliver. We have to find a way to get you out of here." Draco scowled. "What did you think you were doing, anyway? Trying to get yourself killed?"

Oliver had the grace to blush. He had been an auror since he graduated, but he wasn't on any official business when he had stumbled on this serpent's nest. "I was just in the wrong spot at the wrong time. My house is over there, and it's my day off . . ." He pointed to the other side of the woods, where the sun was rising. "What do you mean get me out of here?"

"Mr. Malfoy has been working with me since Hogwart's shut down." Snape sighed. "We really don't have a lot of time."

"He's a spy?" Oliver asked incredulously.

"Yes. I am." Draco's mouth pressed into a hard line. He squared his shoulders. "I have a feeling you're really going to enjoy this. Punch me."

"What?"

"We have to make it look like you escaped. Hit me." Draco raised his chin.

Oliver shrugged, grinned, and slugged him. Draco nearly hit the ground, narrowing his eyes at the former quidditch captain. Oliver shrugged again. "Sorry."

"Now, jump on your broom and go, now!" Snape threw his broom at him. "They'll be back soon."

Wood grabbed his broom and was in the sky without further encouragement. Snape grabbed Draco and pulled him closer, lifting his face to inspect the bruise welling up on his chin. "Merlin, this better work."

"Do unhand my son, Severus." Ice swept down Draco's back as he heard his father's voice. How long had he been there.

"I was just told that Oliver Wood has been captured." Malfoy lifted one flaxen brow. "Yet, he appears to be flying away. Why is that?"

"I - he - "

"Shut up, Draco." His father said softly. "I will listen to your excuses later." Lucius lifted his snake-head cane and turned it sideways. It transfigured into a sleek, black Firebolt. Leaning on it from the side, he took off after Wood.

Draco turned desperately to Snape. "What now?"

"You turn me in." Snape said softly.

"What?"

"You heard me. Your father suspects something. Voldmorte had been searching for the spy in his ranks for months now. They all think it's me." Snape pointed out.

"Severus - "

"You must do this, Draco." He put his hands on his shoulders. "If you turn me in, they'll trust you. And you can finish this."

"I can't do this. I can't do it alone. I don't know what to do or -" Draco's breath came rapidly.

"Pull yourself together, Draco!" Snape barked at him. "You're a Malfoy, for god's sake. All you have to do is act like one. Stay alive. And report what you can."

Draco nodded slowly. "But what about you? What are they going to do to you?"

"I wish I could say I didn't know." He suppressed a shudder. "But it doesn't matter. You have to turn me in."

"There's gotta be another way! I can't turn you in!" Draco resisted, desperate.

"There isn't." Snape insisted. "Now, you need to hit me, and put me under imperio."

"I can't do that to you!"Draco felt tears prick his eyes, though he would never let them spill down his face.

"Dammit, Draco! This isn't a game. You have to." Snape glared at him. Then he punched him. Draco's head snapped back. His fear switched to anger, and he hit Snape back. "There, see. You can, too."

"I'm sorry." Draco took a deep breath, holding onto the bracing anger and cast the spell.

* * *

Draco glanced over at the windows. The sun was going down. Stripping off his clothes, he walked into his private bath and stepped under a steaming shower. He scrubbed until his skin was sore and red. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he stood dripping in front of a full length mirror. Carefully, he slicked his hair back. Then he raised his chin, squared his shoulders and smirked into the mirror. "Showtime."

* * *

Harry carefully tucked his money into a small pouch he kept concealed in his bag, smiling smugly. He turned to Ginny. "Shall we?"

She nodded tightly. They walked out of the ministry into a courtyard. Ginny wondered why they had not left ministry grounds, considering Apparation was not allowed there. In the middle was a circular rose garden, surrounding a stone fountain with phoenix statues. Harry strode quickly through the garden to the fountain, and picked up a stone goblet off it's edge.

"What is this?" Ginny asked, following him. "Aren't we using a portkey?"

"New system. Portkeys are too easily tampered with. Only a member of the Order of the Phoenix can use this fountain to travel." Then he reached out and plucked a white petal from the nearest rose, kissed it and dropped it in the goblet. He let water pour into it from the fountain, and muttered, "The Burrow." The water in the goblet flashed pearlescent for a second, than returned to a crystal clear. Harry held out his hand. "Ready?"

"Yes." She took his hand, and he pulled her roughly against his side, wrapping his arm securely about his waist.

"Hold on then." And he downed the water. A warm white vortex swirled around them and Ginny had the tingling sensation of being turned upside down very slowly. She wrapped her arms around Harry and held on as if her life depended on it. Then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped. And they were standing in front of her house.

"That was . . .quick." She still clung tightly to him.

Harry just smirked in response. "You can let go now."

"Oh, sorry." She shrugged, slowly moving away.

"Give my regards to your family." Harry turned to walk away.

"Harry, stop!" She ran after him, grabbing his arm. "Give them a chance, please?"

He pulled away from her and was about to argue with her when the whole Weasley crew came pouring out of the house. Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Molly and Arthur were all there. Molly ran and embraced her daughter tightly. She ran her hands over her shoulders and arms, cupping her face and kissing her forehead. Harry crossed his arms, and watched with calm indifference.

"Potter." Arthur nodded his head sedately. Sometimes Harry crossed his path at the ministry, usually carrying a body. They would exchange last names, and Arthur never looked him in the eye.

"Weasley." Harry returned. Molly refused to meet his eyes, but the four brothers stared at him, their animosity apparent.

"Thank you, Harry." Ginny called as her mother pushed her towards the house.

"You're most welcome, Ginny." Harry called back, with a mocking bow of his head. "Always happy to be of service to the Weasley family."

"Well, you brought her back. You can leave now." Fred said pointedly. "Before anything else happens to one of us."

"I wasn't the one who kidnapped her - " Harry started, but stopped himself. Of course they still hated him. No amount of explanation or time would change that. He cursed himself for wanting to believe the youngest Weasley. "She's not hurt. Just hungry and tired. I brought her back as soon as I could."

"Not before stopping to drop off another one, though, eh, Harry? How much did that one bring you?" George asked.

"Enough." Harry answered. He scowled. "You think this is about money, do you? Of course you do, you're a Weasley." They all gaped at him. "I have millions, now, you realize. It's not about money. It's about - "

"Doing what's right, Potter?" Arthur asked, sarcasm a stranger to his voice.

"Revenge." Harry said, softly. He dug into his back, producing a pouch. "Here, you want to know how much a Weasley is worth these days? There it is. Nearly fifteen thousand galleons. Not bad, huh?" He threw the bag on the ground at their feet. "Keep it." And he vanished.

* * *

Draco Apparated into a dungeon lit by emerald-flamed torches. His cloak swirled about his heels as he walked toward a low murmur of voices. His mask scratched his face, but he ignored it. He waked into a circular room, eerie green light flickering at the walls. At the head of a "U" of cloaked and masked people, stood Voldemort, his grotesque face wore a smile more sinister than any mask. The Death Eaters at his side radiated tension. Their mouths drawn in tight lines to hold in concerns about their dwindling numbers, their eyes followed Draco. These were not the loyal, steadfast purebloods that had stood by Lucius. These were the skittish remains of his followers, and to a one, they envied Malfoy's confidence.

He knelt before the Dark Lord, brushing his lips across a handful of robe with an irreverent air. "My Lord."

"Rise, Draco." The gravelly hiss came. "I trust you have heard the bad news."

Draco stood, his hands clasped lightly behinds his back, his jaw clenched in a show of false anger. "I have."

"I have decided to send a message. Make it clear that this, 'bounty hunter'," Voldemort's eyes flashed. "Will not stop ussss."

"I await your orders, sir." Draco smirked, flicking his cloak over one shoulder.

Voldemorte smiled. "Your father would be proud of how far you've come, Draco. You are truly a credit to his name."

"My Lord is too kind." Draco bowed, his voice toneless.

The Dark Lord nodded to a man on his left, and he quickly left the group, heading down a dark corridor behind him. Voldemorte addressed the crowd. "Tonight you, and everyone else will see the resolve of a true follower."

The man reappeared, dragging a young girl , eleven or twelve. She wore a torn, dirty night shirt, her feet were bare. Her frizzy brown hair hung in her face as she struggled, and for an instant, she looked like Hermione Granger at that age. Draco swallowed, knowing in that moment that he couldn't hurt that girl. She was dropped on her knees before him, her chains clashing against the stone floor. "Here is your parchment, Draco. It's up to you to write the message."

"No," He growled. The Death Eater's gasped and stepped back, but Draco just smiled, cruelly. "Let's not hide what we do here, in this basement!" He gestured grandly, before grabbing the girl and yanking her up by her hair. "Let's do this properly! Under the night sky, for all the stars to see! What have we to fear?"

Voldemort nodded in approval, and with a wave of his skeletal hand, they were all outdoors, in a clearing in a woods, that Draco didn't recognize. Bowing, Draco pointed his wand to the sky, and a bright Death Eater's mark appeared.

Draco took a deep breath, as he threw the girl to the ground, his wand raised. He wished he could give the child a reassuring look, but sneered icily at her instead. He knew that he could not do what they wanted. This was it - the end of his spying days. He just hoped he could pull it off, get the two of them out of there and make it to Severus and Hermione in time. He stretched out a hand to reach for the girl when an arrow struck her leg. He heard her yelp in pain a second before she vanished. "What the bloody - "

He was cut off as his wand flew from his hand. A strong arm snaked across his chest, the sting of a cold blade digging into his neck. The figure behind him tossed his head back, throwing his mask into the woods. A familiar voice sounded next to his ear. "Surprise."

Voldemort stared at his captor, enraged. "You!"

"Miss me?" Potter smirked. He yanked Malfoy viciously closer, pointing his knife for a second at the Dark Lord. "You're next!"

And the pair Disapparated in a flash of green light.

To be continued . . .


	4. Chapter 3

Title: Bounty Hunter

Rating: R-ish

Author: Snippy

Pairing: H/D, Hr/SS (a little)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. do not belong to me. Sadly.

Summary: Warning: dark fic, character death and H/D slash. This story is not light and hope and puppies, people. The bounty hunter is going after the Death Eaters one by one, but at what price? This story is not about black and white, it's about shades of grey. Can people change? Can a hero become a villain? Can a villain save a hero? And which is which?

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Dragon's Price**

"You don't have to do this, Harry. We won't think any less of you." Lupin's hand was warm on his shoulder.

"Speak for yourself, Wolf." Mad Eye Moody growled out. "Boy should learn to take care of himself.

Harry gripped his wand tighter. He looked at the toad in front him, looked in it's eyes. But he didn't see the animal. He only saw the closed casket of Sirius Black being lowered into the mud. "Avada Kedavra."

The toad blinked back at him, unharmed.

"Try again." Lupin encouraged.

"Avada Kedavra!" Nothing. He turned to look at Lupin, his eyes full of doubt.

"You'll get it. How about you take a break for a minute, then try again?" Lupin suggested. "Who could use a butterbeer?" The other two nodded and Lupin disappeared into the house.

Harry sat down in a chair, dejected. "I'll never get this."

"Of course you won't, not like that."

"What do you mean?" Sometimes Harry really disliked Moody. He was old, gruff, rough around the edges, paranoid, and rarely nice to Harry.

"You don't want to get it."

"Yes I do." Harry bit out.

"Really? Because it looks to me like you want to sit down and cry." Moody replied.

"You're a real git, you know that?"

"And you're a whiny little boy." He returned, calmly.

"What's your problem?" Harry stood, his face flushing with anger.

"My problem? In a word, you." Moody stared him down. "You're wasting my time. You're not angry Peter killed Sirius. You're upset that you were left alone. That's your problem, Potter. You're still moping about like a kicked puppy."

Harry couldn't remember ever feeling that angry. He glared at Moody, and in that moment, wanted to be able to cast that curse on him more than he had wanted anything in his life. He raised his wand, the words forming in his mind. At the last minute, he turned to the toad. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The toad turned over, dead. Harry turned wide eyes to Moody as Lupin came closer. Remus set the tray of butterbeers down. "Harry! You did it!"

Moody grinned at him, and suddenly Harry understood. His emotions had gotten in the way. If he wanted to be able to fight back, the only emotion he could have was anger. Harry held Moody's gaze, as he smiled. "Carpe Noctem."

* * *

Harry smiled as he let the knife bite into Malfoy's neck without quite breaking the skin. Draco inhaled sharply. They stood in a hallway of Malfoy Manor, in front of a mirror. Harry met Draco's eyes in their reflection. "Hello, Malfoy. Miss me?"

Draco just stared at him, his mouth tightly drawn. The stubble along Harry's jaw brushed his face, and the hand that held the knife never trembled.

"I'll take that as a 'no'." Harry chuckled.

"There a reason you came to see me, Potter?" Draco asked in a low voice.

"Such conceit. I actually came to see some guests of yours." Harry looked into the mirror. "So, you're going to get us through that glass, or I'm going to kill you now instead of later."

"You're going to kill me anyway, why should I help you?" Draco desperately wanted Hermione and Snape to be rescued. But the Death Eaters could hear everything said in his house if he didn't use his frost cloaking spell. Also, he wasn't sure he wanted to turn them over to Harry. Hermione was scared of the bounty hunter, and he wasn't sure he wanted her to know the truth about Harry. "What did you do to that girl?"

"I sent her to the ministry of magic." Harry answered wryly.

"By shooting her?"

"Portkey. It got her out of there, didn't it?" Harry shrugged. They'd pull the arrow out and heal her up, good as new. Maybe even put a memory charm on her. "Now, the mirror." Draco just stared at him, mulishly. "Ok, fine. Get us through, and I'll kill you *quickly*."

Draco shuddered at the emptiness in Harry's eyes. He waved his hand at the mirror and it shimmered. Carefully they stepped through. At the base of the steps were two bodies, their necks craned at unnatural angles. The knife bit into his neck again, this time drawing a thin line of blood. "Potter?"

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry hurried him down the stairs. He kicked the first body over with his foot. A Death Eater guard. "You just lucked out."

Draco looked into the cell he had visited early. Hermione and Severus were gone. He sighed in relief. "They escaped."

"You better hope so, Malfoy." Harry whispered. He tried not to feel the sharp stab of disappointment. Hermione wasn't there. Jerking Malfoy back against him, he Apparated out of Malfoy Manor.

Draco leaned back, trying to keep the edge of the knife away from his throat as he surveyed his new surroundings. There were in a large room he might have called airy, if it weren't for the damp gloom of the place. It had vaulted ceilings, but the windows were boarded up and the room was devoid of furniture except for one chair in the corner. There was a dusty carpet in front of the cold fireplace. On one wall was a vast board, covered in mounted weapons. Crossbows, axes, knives, containers of potions, and in the center, a sword. Opposite the wall was a knocked up target that had certainly seen better days.

"Home, sweet home." Potter whispered. "Would you like the tour?"

"Where are we?" Draco asked.

"Don't recognize it? Think back to your school days." Harry waited a moment. "No? We're in Hogsmeade."

"Hogmeade?"

"Yes. The Shrieking Shack." Harry walked him over to the weapons wall, pulling down a pair of metal cuffs. He snicked them onto Malfoy's wrists.

"What is this?" Draco asked. "What are we doing here?"

"I live here." Harry replied shortly. He started to let go of Draco, but stopped, holding the cuffs in one hand, he dipped the other into Draco's pocket, pulling out his wand. "I'll take that."

Harry calmly walked out of the room, then returned with a straight back chair. "Sit."

"What's the magic word?" Draco sneered at him.

"Now." Harry pointed to the chair again. Draco sat. Harry pulled a small chain with fasteners on each end. He connected one end to the chair and the other to Draco's restraints. "There, that's cozy."

"I thought you were going to kill me."

"My, my, aren't we eager to get to the main event." Harry smirked.

"Is your plan to talk me to death? I heard you were good at torture." Draco commented.

"That's what I figured. Knew you were too annoying to be properly subdued by being captured." Harry snorted. "You can irritate me all you want, Malfoy. I'm not letting you go."

"What, are you too interested in the bounty on my head to kill me?" Draco guessed. "Heard it was near a million now."

"Two." Harry smiled slowly. "Dead or Alive."

Draco closed his eyes. So Potter really was going to kill him. "I see. Then what are we doing here, Potter?"

"First I have to see if Hermione and Severus are safe. Then I'll kill you." Harry replied calmly.

Draco took a deep breath, feeling the truth of that statement run through him. "When will you know?"

"Soon enough. I sent Hedwig with a message, just now. We just have to wait until she gets back." Harry met his eyes. "What do you say we talk until then, Malfoy?"

"Why would I want to talk to you, Potter?"

"Because I'm the last person you'll ever talk to." Harry laughed.

* * *

Harry stood in front of a dingy mirror in his bedroom. He didn't spare a glance at his meager surroundings. Once the room had been warm, cozy and lit with affection. Now its dusty, threadbare, harsh countenance reflects the man who sleeps on the mattress shoved into a corner. Harry pulled on a pair of worn black leather pants, and a green wool sweater. Reaching behind him, he swirled a Death Eater's cloak around his shoulders, smiling slightly. He had taken it from Lucius, shaking boomslangs off of the soft fabric as he pulled it from Lucius' stiff form. It had served him well. He settled a mask on his face, only then looking in his own eyes. He had been planning this for three months. Taking the time to rescue Ginny might have caused some problems or delays, but Harry was now a meticulous planner. Now that she was back home, it was time. Tonight was a big night for him. Raising the hood, he gave the Death Eater in the mirror a mocking salute. "Carpe Noctem, Harry."

He turned and quickly descended the stairs, entering his training room. He picked up his worn leather bag from the floor and methodically began to fill it. Several cloaking potions, a full set of portkey arrows, his favorite knife - a sharp blade held in the teeth of an ebony dragon, his small crossbow, and a drought of poison, in case he was captured. The bag also held two apples, two hard biscuits, and canteen of water, that he kept in there at all times. Sewn into the lining in the bottom was a locket, containing a picture of Ron, Hermione and himself in their third year, arms around each other in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Ginny had taken the picture before Christmas Vacation. Ron had given the locket to Hermione for her fourteenth birthday. She had worn it every day since.

Harry reached his hand into the front pocket of the bag, digging until he found what he was looking for. A werewolf tooth on a leather strap. He slung it over his head, under his hood and tucked it into his sweater. He was ready.

Harry Apparated into the middle of a woods, his hand clutched around a tracking stone. The stone had been dipped in ink used to make the Death Eater's Mark, and would lead Harry to anyone who's Mark had been activated. He put the stone back into his pocket, scanning the area. There! Ahead of him was a man in a cloak. He crept closer, his footfalls not making a sound. The man stopped, Harry standing in his shadow behind him. The man was looking around, and Harry thought that he could hear his heart pounding. "Who's there? I demand you show yourself!"

Harry sighed. "Alright, if you insist."

The man spun around, hand to his chest. He saw the hood and mask and visibly relaxed. "You shouldn't sneak up on people before a meeting like this."

Harry grinned. "Couldn't help it, you looked so nervous."

The man peered at him, trying to figure out which of his compatriots was behind the mask. "Did I?"

"Strange that. Are you afraid of the dark?" Harry's grin deepened, as he palmed his knife. "Or of bounty hunters?"

"Of course not." The man scoffed, now irritated.

"No?" Harry removed his mask. The man turned white, scrambling for his wand. Harry spun him by the shoulder, letting his weight fall against his chest as he slit his throat. The man fell to the ground, a raw, gurgling sound coming from his throat. Harry winked at him. "You should be."

The man stopped moving. "Looks like you're going to miss your party." He stepped over the body. "Don't worry. I'll give them your regrets."

* * *

Draco licked his lips, his throat tight and parched. Harry noted the movement easily, and hid a grin. "Thirsty?"

"No." Draco scowled at him.

Harry stood up, and in a moment returned with a full glass of water. "You sure about that?"

"Yes." Draco felt his stomach cramp with longing. "I wouldn't take anything you offered me anyway, Potter."

"And why is that?"

"Because you want to kill me." Draco gritted his teeth.

"You think I would poison you?" Harry laughed. "I'm a little more straight-forward than that, Malfoy."

Draco turned his head, mulishly.

"Fine." Harry gripped his chin and turned Draco's face until their eyes met. "Watch." And he gulped down some of the water. "Now, thirsty?"

Draco nodded his head and waited for Harry to take the water away. Instead, Harry gently tilted the cup to his lips. He drank the glass down, and only noticed the after taste when Harry had taken the cup away. His heart sped with adrenaline. "What was that?"

"Relax. It's a concentrated form of veritaeserum." Harry grinned. "Told you I wanted to talk. I wondered what it would take to make you talk. Turned out your price was a drink of water."

"But you . . ." Draco felt his brain going a little foggy, like right after a strong drink.

"I don't fear the truth." Harry smiled. "Question is . . .do you?"


	5. Chapter 4

Title: Bounty Hunter

Rating: R-ish

Author: Snippy

Pairing: H/D, Hr/SS (a little)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. do not belong to me. Sadly.

Summary: Warning: dark fic, character death and H/D slash. This story is not light and hope and puppies, people. The bounty hunter is going after the Death Eaters one by one, but at what price? This story is not about black and white, it's about shades of grey. Can people change? Can a hero become a villain? Can a villain save a hero? And which is which?

Gratuities: First off, I cannot say thank you enough to those of you who reviewed. This story is sort of an adventure for me, and even with Snarky as my most trusted partner in crime and beta, I'm still nervous writing without her. So, my undying love and devotion, you reviewers! Alright, so here we go . . .

* * *

Chapter 4: Obsession

*~*~*~*(Flash back)*~*~*~*

Harry strode through the halls of the ministry, never glancing at the people bustling about him. He walked into the men's room, locking the door behind him. He finally stopped at the sink, bracing his hands on the edges. He took a deep breath, and turned the hot water on, leaving a crimson hand-print behind. He scrubbed furiously, his hands, his arms, his face until all the scarlet splatters were gone. Taking a deep breath, he offered his reflection a half-hearted grin. He was ready to see Hermione.

Casually, he strolled up the stairs, and down the hallway to her lab. She was standing outside her office door, leaning against the wall, lost in thought, a forgotten clipboard clutched in her left hand. A few years ago, he would have taken the opportunity to sneak up on her, but lately few people enjoyed surprises. And sneaking up on such a clever witch was probably not the best idea. He called softly, "Allo, Hermione."

"Harry!" Turning, she ran the rest of the length of the hallway and wrapped her arms about her neck. "You're ok!"

"Yeah, of course I am." He hugged her close to him, burying his face in her hair.

"They told me you went out with Moody on another raid." She whispered. "I was so worried."

"Don't be. I can handle myself rather well." He said firmly.

"I can't lose you, Harry. I can't lose another friend . . . " Her voice started to shake.

"Hermione, stop that. You won't lose me. I promise." He vowed. "We're going to win this war, and I swear to you, when we do, I'm going to be standing there in the rubble, with you."

Hermione pulled back, concerned at the bite to his tone, but before she could speak, all the lights in the building went out, and shrill sirens pierced the air. "What's going on?"

"Death Eater raid." Harry grabbed her hand. "I've gotta get you outta here!" He looked around. "Quick, into the lab."

They dashed into the room, together. Harry pulled the door shut, muttered a locking charm, and then shoved a cabinet in the way. Hermione remained close to him. "Harry, we can't hide in here! We have to help!"

"No, *we* can't." Harry took hold of her shoulders. "You're going to stay right here. And I'm going to come back for you, I promise."

"Harry, no way!" Hermione stared at him as if he had gone insane. Harry stared back at her. If he left now, she would just Apparate out behind him.

"Sorry, Hermione." And with a flick of his hand, he bound her from Apparating. Then he repeated her words. "But I really can't lose you."

* * *

Draco met Harry's eyes with trepidation, searching them for a spark of what used to be there. Nothing. There was no compassion, no righteous indignation, no sadness. As he continued to stare, he realized that Harry stared right back at him, perfectly at ease with being examined. The corner of Harry's mouth twisted up, and suddenly Draco could see one emotion in Harry's eyes. Fury.

"So, what do you want to talk about, Potter?" Draco drawled. "Want to take a stroll down memory lane. Talk about old friends? The weather?"

"How about you tell me what Voldemort was going to have you do to that girl?" Harry replied calmly.

Draco cursed under his breath. "Kill her. Drop her off at the Ministry in the morning."

Harry nodded, sitting in a chair facing him. "Running scared, isn't he?"

"Yes." Draco bit out.

"Good." Harry leaned back in his chair and smiled. "So, how've you been?"

"A little worse for wear." He raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding me? That's the question you ask?"

"Well, I could ask you who your fellow Death Eaters are." Harry smirked. "But I already know. I could ask you how many are left, but I know that too. I could ask you where to find them, but I can do that on my own. I could ask where Voldemort's hiding out." Harry paused and leaned forward. "But I know that, too."

"Then why bother with a truth potion?" Draco asked, confused.

"To make you nervous." Harry smiled. "Is it working?"

"Yes." Draco refused to meet his eyes.

"Are you scared of me, Draco?" A hint of mischievous light glinted in Harry's eyes. Draco would have found it more comforting if Harry wasn't about to kill him.

"A little." He confessed. He lifted his head up. "Who would've thought things would end up like this, eh, Potter?"

"Me." Harry's eyes narrowed. "Didn't you? Didn't you know, somehow, that it would end up you and me in the end?"

"I suppose." Draco sneered. "Always knew you were obsessed with me." Harry just looked at him, when it occurred to Draco that Harry had also consumed the potion. "Weren't you?"

"Yes." Harry admitted, frowning. "I've wanted you since you killed Oliver Wood. You did kill him, didn't you?" Harry forced his tone to be casual.

"No, I let him go." Draco said softly. "Looks like you made a mistake, Potter."

"Wouldn't be the first time." He replied tightly.

* * *

Harry fought his way through the Death Eaters, working his way back towards the lab. Ahead of him, a team of five were climbing the stairs. One of them had chains. Harry shoved people out of his way, sending curses left and right as he followed them up the stairs, determined to stop them from getting to Hermione. A stupefy curse hit him, and he leaned against the rail, dizziness sweeping him.

Harry forced himself to keep moving and by the time he reached the top of the stairs, his head felt clear. At least until he saw Blaise Zabini forcing the lab door open. Harry raised his wand, aiming at the one closest to him. "Avada Kedavra!"

The door to the lab closed on the body. Harry didn't bother to push it out of the way, stepping on the man's back as he moved into the lab. Hermione was backed against a wall, throwing potions and waving her wand menacingly at her attackers. Unfortunately, there were a few too many for her to handle. While she fired curses at two to her left, Zabini took the opportunity to rush her. He knocked her wand from her hand, and wrapped an arm around her neck.

"Hermione!" Harry called, the intensity in his voice rolling through the room. He pointed his wand at the two who had distracted her. "Crucio!"

"Ready to go on a trip, honey?" Zabini smirked in her ear.

Hermione twisted wildly, sinking her teeth into his arm hard enough to break the skin. He eased his grip for a moment, and she struggled to get free, but he managed to get his hands on the locket around her neck. It broke off in his hand, but gave him enough time to pull her back.

"You'll pay for that Mudblood. Wait until Malfoy sees you."

Harry moved closer, ducking curses as he went. "Avada Kedavra." He whispered. "Avada Kedavra."

"Harry!" Hermione screamed as Zabini struggled with her, forcing her arms behind her back and binding them.

"Hermione!" Harry killed the two Death Eaters still under his Cruciatus Curse.

"Say goodbye, Potter." Zabini grinned, shoving Hermione behind him. Her bound hands touched something on the wall and she vanished. A portkey.

"HERMIONE!" Cold fury swept over Harry. Dropping his wand, he pulled back and slugged Zabini three times in the face. He followed the older boy down when he crumpled, digging his knees into his arms to hold him in place. "Where did you send her?" Zabini shook his head.

Harry took hold of one of the former Slytherin's hand, gripping one finger between two hands. Smiling, he snapped the bone. "*Where* did you send her?"

"Sod off, Potter." Zabini panted.

Harry broke another finger. "Where?"

No reply. Another was broken. Zabini screamed. "M-malfoy's. Sent her to Malfoy's!"

Harry smiled and broke another finger. "Are you sure?"

"Yes! Please, stop!"

"Alright, Zabini. No more broken fingers." Harry cupped the boy's chin in one hand, setting his other hand at the top of his head. Without flinching, he calmly twisted, the sound of crunching bones ringing in his ears as he broke his neck. "Goodbye, Zabini."

He stoody up, wearily, about to head for the door, when something glinting on the floor caught his eye. Hermione's locket. If only he hadn't stopped her from Apparating. A tear slid through the blood spattered on his face. "I'm so sorry."

* * *

Draco glanced again at Harry's smirking face, anger starting to build inside him. He was a Malfoy, dammit. And he wasn't going out sniveling and gritting out truths for Potter's amusement. If he was going to die, he was going to do it on his terms, with style. If these were his last few hours, he was going to have fun with them. And with Mr. Potter-the-big-bad-bounty-hunter.

"So, you've wanted me since Wood died." Draco smirked. "You might want to watch your word choice there, Potter."

"Wanted you dead."

"No, you wanted to kill me." Draco pointed out.

"Yeah, so?"

"So, that's a whole other thing entirely." Draco grinned. "Kinda intimate."

"Whatever floats your broom, Malfoy." Harry was confused. Here he was, waiting to see if he was going to need Malfoy for a bargaining chip, or if he could kill him, and it seemed like Malfoy was hitting on him.

"You said you were obsessed with me."

"Yeah, and you weren't obsessed with me?"

"Yes." Draco felt the word rise to his tongue unbidden. He shook it off, and tried to hold onto the offensive. "Why do you think that is?"

"Because I hate you." Harry said with conviction.

"I'll bet you do." Draco's smirk deepened. "But, why do you hate me, Potter?"

"Oh, let me count the ways." Harry slipped off his chair, to kneel closer to Draco. "I hate you because you think pureblood entitles you to whatever you want. I hate you because you made fun of Ron. I hate you for calling Hermione a Mudblood. I hate you for every nasty little thing you said and did to me at Hogwarts. I hate you because you're a Death Eater. I hate you for holding Hermione prisoner, for turning in Snape, for every Muggle you killed. I hate you for being a coward. I hate you for . . ." Harry bit his tongue to hold back the last part.

"For what, Potter?"

"For making me choose between you and Ron that first day." Harry heaved a large sigh. He hated admitting stuff like that. When he had been young, he wanted friends more than he wanted his next meal. And he resented Malfoy for making enemies with him, to this day. It doesn't matter, anymore, he told himself. Too late now.

"Fat lot of good it did you, choosing the Weasley's over me, eh?" Draco smiled. "They hate you now, just as much as they ever hated the Malfoys."

"Seems to me I made the right choice, considering the circumstances. You're on the wrong side of the fight, Malfoy. And you're about to be on the wrong side of a very powerful little curse." Harry smirked back.

"Oh, yeah, you're a real hero, Potter. Too bad all of your friends hide in fear when you walk in the room." Draco smiled. "But enough about how far you've fallen."

"How far I've - "

"Last time I checked, heros don't shoot the people they save." Draco raised a brow. Harry stared at him, face blank. "I don't think that question led us to where I was going. Let us rephrase. What is the nature of your obsession with me?"

"Hate." Harry hissed. Slowly, he pulled his dagger from his boot. He placed the flat of the blade against Draco's face, smoothing it over the pale skin.

"You know what I think, Harry?" The dark haired boy paused, looking up at him though inky lashes, a sinister cast to his face. Draco's breath caught. "I think I'm the one of the last few things you give a damn about."

"In a way." Harry conceded, bringing the blade under Draco's chin.

"Let me tell you some things about you, Potter." Draco held perfectly still. "I think your little vendetta against me is what has been keeping you going. I also think it goes deeper than this War. You're not a good guy, Potter."

"No, and why is that?"

"Because you're attracted to power. Always have been. And you hate me, because I had a power that you would never touch." Draco stated. Harry's eyes widened for a moment.

"Seem to be touching it now." Harry lifted Draco's chin up with the knife point. "Are you trying to say I'm attracted to you?"

"In a way." Draco tossed back, loving the unease he saw in the other's boy frame. He smirked at him. "Aren't you?"

"I . . ." Harry searched Draco's face. What was he playing at? And was he right. He could feel his heart quicken, taste the anticipation in the air. He had pinned it on excitement of the kill, but usually he felt nothing. "I might be."

"Oh, give over, Potter. I saw you in those Death Eater's robes. Nothing draws you like a taste of the forbidden."

"Are you trying to get laid before you die, Malfoy? Because I'm not going to sleep with you." Harry grinned, hoping to rattle the blond and regain the upper hand.

"What a pity." Draco sighed. "How about a snog then, Potter. Don't I get a last request?"

Malfoy had to be trying to get to him. Well, two could play at this game. "Alright then, Malfoy."

Draco grinned, raising his brows in a challenging manner. Harry applied pressure to the knife, forcing Draco's chin higher, and leaned down. Draco leaned forward, inadvertently digging the blade into his skin, but never flinching. He brushed his lips softly across Harry's, then gently tugged Harry's lower lip into his mouth. Harry started to deepen the kiss, but pulled back abruptly, regarding Draco with suspicious eyes. "You taste like snake venom, Harry."

"You would know." Harry turned and stalked from the room.

Draco could hear him as he climbed the steps. He was about to call something to him, when he heard a shimmer and a pop behind him. He froze.

"Draco?"


	6. Chapter 5

**Title: **Bounty Hunter

**Rating:** R-ish

**Author:** Snippy

**Pairing:** H/D, Hr/SS (a little)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and Co. do not belong to me. Sadly.

**Summary:** Warning: dark fic, character death and H/D slash. This story is not light and hope and puppies, people. The bounty hunter is going after the Death Eaters one by one, but at what price? This story is not about black and white, it's about shades of grey. Can people change? Can a hero become a villain? Can a villain save a hero? And which is which?

* * *

Harry stood in the middle of his room, arms folded loosely about his chest. His face was an impassive mask, but underneath it emotions consumed him like a wild brush fire in The Forbidden Forest. His fingers clenched impulsively. Harry's life was a hurricane, and he had made it a point to always stand in the eye of the storm. Moody had taught him well. No matter the torrents of rain or gale force winds of turmoil that surrounded him, he stayed calm and in control. Until now.

Malfoy – Draco ignited emotions inside him, rage, frustration, hate, and desire. Harry was made of ice, and Draco was like heat lightning. When he looked into Draco's stormy eyes, he no longer wanted to be in the eye of the storm. He wanted to step into the middle of the maelstrom, tip his head back and laugh as the power of it consumed him. Of course, Harry did dangerous, slightly reckless things everyday. He walked on the edge. Nothing scared Harry anymore. Until now.

Draco had to die. It was more than Harry's "quest" now. If Draco could make him feel like this, he was dangerous. And Harry was too close to doing what he had set out to do to let something get in the way now. Harry now had the chance to kill him, Draco was waiting downstairs for it to happen. Harry saw it in his eyes, that he had accepted death. It was a look Harry had become very familiar with. Harry had wanted to kill Draco since Oliver Wood died. Until now.

It didn't really matter what he wanted, Harry decided. It was too late to change the scripts. In the beginning he had just been pretending to be the cold-blooded killer Moody wanted and all the other Aurors shied away from. But one truth had been pounded into him as each body hit the floor. We all eventually become what we pretend to be. It had never bothered him. Until now.

Harry gripped his knife in his hand, seeking the sleek lines of the dragon with his fingertips. As soon as he knew that Hermione and Snape were safe, that he wouldn't need Draco to bargain with Voldemort, Malfoy would die. Glancing out the window, he saw a distant white spot on the approach. Hedwig. The moment was at hand. Slowly, he took a deep breath. He told himself he was just worried about what had happened to Hermione, as he started down the stairs. But Harry wasn't very good at lying to himself. He had never had a need to. Until now.

* * *

Draco turned his head. "How did you find me?" His expression hardened. "You shouldn't have come here."

"Are you alright?" Hermione rushed to his side, running her hands over the ropes that kept him tied to the chair. She completely ignored his warnings. "We have to get you out of here!"

"Hermione, you have to leave right now!" Draco could hear footsteps on the stairs.

She knelt down in front of him to get a better look at his bonds. "Shut up, Draco. I think these are enchanted." She tried again to undo the ropes, but they resisted her efforts. Hermione pulled out her wand and was about to try a charm, when she felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck. Always one to follow her instincts, she ducked back behind the chair, narrowly missing a hex. Glancing towards the back of the room, she caught the sweep of a sleeve by the stairs. The bounty hunter! She rolled to her side, pointing her wand. "Stupendo!"

The hex must have missed him, because she heard a muffled word and suddenly Draco arched up in agony. The spell had missed her, but Draco had just been hit with Crucio. She lifted her wand again. "Finite Incatatum!" Draco sagged back in his chair. She aimed at the shadow in the hallway once more. "Crucio!"

Her spell hit with deadly accuracy. She saw his wand drop to the floor and heard a thud as he must have hit the back wall. But her smug smile melted off her face as she heard him rise. Somehow he must have a resistance to the spell. She ducked and called out, "Imperio!", her eyes still on the wand on the floor. The rumors were true. He could perform wandless magic and the Unforgivables didn't touch him.

"Get out of here!" Draco ordered. Gone was the kindly tone of the past few years. It was replaced with that of the overbearing schoolboy she used to know. But it lacked its customary punch, his voice barely a whisper.

Hermione could feel the rage begin boiling inside of her. Other than Severus, Hermione had nothing. She had lost all of her old friends, her school, and had almost lost her life. Everything had been turned upside down. The only constants left in her world were Severus and Draco. She had just left her fellow prisoner alone in the woods, and now one of the 'good' guys was trying to take Draco from her! "Show yourself you black-hearted coward!"

"Hermione?" he said softly. It was the last voice she had expected to hear. Her mind refused to recognize it. Trembling, she pulled herself up behind Draco, her hands clutching at his shoulders for support. Draco just shook his head.

Slowly, the figure emerged from the darkness, which clung to the corners of the house. Her eyes fixed on his boots, covered with crumbling dirt, up dark trousers stained with something that resembled blood, to a dark green sweater, snagged in places. She registered the open robe as a Death Eater cloak. Hermione forced herself to look at his face. The harsh angles were lightly covered with stubble, but it was clear who it was. His familiar emerald eyes sparkled with intensity, and as he brushed his longish sable hair out of his eyes, she glimpsed the unmistakable scar. She shook her head, her whole body recoiling. She nearly tripped over her own feet as she backed away. "No. . .no, it can't be . . . I don't believe it." There was an edge of near-hysteria in her voice.

Harry lowered his head, fighting the sinking feeling in his stomach, refusing to acknowledge it as shame. "Believe it."

Tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. "You're dead."

He gave a wry laugh. "More or less."

"You died with Moody and the others," Hermione insisted stubbornly.

"More or less." Harry shrugged. "I buried my heart beside him."

"And what about your soul?" Hermione asked bitterly. "Or did you sell that later?"

"Hermione," he said quietly, a barely disguised plea in his voice. "This is hard enough without the melodrama. I've been going after Death Eaters. That's what this whole war is about."

"And here I thought it was about preserving innocence and honor and saving lives." She returned. She still clutched at Draco's shoulders. It was habit. After all, he was the thing that had stood between death and herself for a year.

"Ever a Gryffindor, eh, Hermione?" Harry's sarcasm made her wince.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "And what are you supposed to be? A Slytherin?" She mocked.

"I was supposed to be, you know," Harry confessed. He was trying desperately to be flippant but he found the mask he'd carefully constructed from the ashes of his former self was slipping. He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest to keep from reaching for her. "I'm a bounty hunter."

"And how much is Draco worth?" Her fingers dug into Malfoy's shoulders.

"Two million," Harry replied easily.

Hermione caught her breath, her hand settled over her heart. Tears filled her eyes. "Harry . . ."

"Don't – " Harry looked away, studying the floor. "I know what I am, ok? I never wanted you to know . . . " Harry trailed off as slender arms wrapped around his neck. He looked up startled, meeting her soft brown eyes. Harry fought the emotion welling up in his throat. "I've been looking for you."

Hermione buried her head in Harry's chest. Her distaste of what he'd become was warring with her joy at finding him alive. "I knew you'd find me."

"I think you found me," he admitted, sliding his hand through her hair, cupping her cheek. "I'm not sure how I feel about that. Didn't want you to know that I was – "

"The bounty hunter?" She asked. He nodded. She laced her hands behind his neck, looking into his eyes. "You're still Harry Potter to me."

Harry felt something lurch inside him when she said that. He pulled her closer, setting his head on top of hers.

"As touching as all of this is, Potter, do you think I could have your attention for a minute? I know you were planning lots of bondage fun for me, but my hands are falling asleep," Draco drawled.

"And that's my concern, why?" Harry glared at Draco over Hermione's head.

"Oh, Harry! You have to let him go!" Hermione turned, keeping one hand on Harry like she was afraid he'd evaporate into thin air.

"What? Why?" It suddenly occurred to him that he had been dueling with her moments ago because she had been trying to free Draco. Of course, he hadn't known that it was her at the time.

"Because, he's not a Death Eater!"

"He's not?" Harry looked at her, wondering if one of his curses had hit her.

"No. And besides, he's my friend."

Harry pulled his wand out, pointing it at her. "Finite Incantatum!"

Hermione stared down at the wand, which was inches away from her nose, impatiently. "He's still my friend."

"But . . . why?"

"Still losing circulation here," Draco pointed out, twisting in his bonds.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry shot back. "Next you'll be trying to tell me he's a spy for our side or some such rot."

"Uh, well – "

"You've got to be kidding me." Harry stared at her.

"Almost as unbelievable as you kissing me earlier, isn't it, Potter?"

"I'd never deny someone a last request," Harry replied, with a smirk.

Hermione looked from Draco to Harry. "I'm confused."

Harry pushed a hand through his hair. "Join the club."

* * *

Harry reclined back on his mattress in the corner of his bedroom. Hermione had just portkeyed to the Ministry of Defense. Hedwig had sent word that Snape had returned, without Hermione, and was absolutely furious about the current state of affairs. Draco stood next to the doorway to the room, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, looking imperiously down at Harry. "This is your room?"

"Appears to be, yes." Harry gestured to the space with small wave. "What do you think?"

"It's as empty as you are," Draco replied bluntly.

Empty? Yes, he had been. A few days ago, he had felt like a vast cavern that would never ever be full again. Now, he felt like he was about to overflow with emotion if he didn't find some outlet. And the only one around was Malfoy. His eyes darkened as he looked the blond over. "Is that how you see me?"

"Yes." Malfoy's breath hitched at the predatory gleam in Harry's eyes. He watched as the green-eyed man rose slowly from his position with a lazy grace, moving deliberately toward him. "There's nothing left inside you."

"Nothing inside me?" Harry smirked, coming to a stop in front of him. He placed one hand on either side of Malfoy's head, blocking him in. He let his hips brush suggestively against him, as he leaned forward to whisper, breath hot in his ear, "Care to change that?"


	7. Chapter 6

Title: Bounty Hunter

Rating: R-ish

Author: Snippy

Pairing: H/D, Hr/SS (a little)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. do not belong to me. Sadly.

Summary: Warning: dark fic, character death and H/D slash. This story is not light and hope and puppies, people. The bounty hunter is going after the Death Eaters one by one, but at what price? This story is not about black and white, it's about shades of grey. Can people change? Can a hero become a villain? Can a villain save a hero? And which is which?

A/N: There are two flashback scenes back-to-back, first thing in this part. Sorry about that. But, many people wanted to know how Hermione and Severus escaped, so that's one. And the other is continuing the story of how Harry got to be this dark, and I feel that it's important. But there's plenty of yummy stuff at the end. Again, I apologize if the flashbacks are confusing or you don't like them, but I feel that they are stylistically sound and necessary to the characterization and the plot.

* * *

Hermione looked at her feet as the guard cast a cleaning spell on her and Snape and then extinguished the light. She let her eyes adjust to the darkness before settling down in her favorite spot, against the wall, close to Severus. He immediately wrapped an arm around her, and sighing, she rested her head against his shoulder. "Do you think Draco will be alright?"

"Of course. He's quite capable of taking care of himself." Snape set his cheek against the top of her head. There was a little voice in the back of his head that suggested the position was not proper, but he scoffed at it. What part of their situation *was* proper? Besides, he was no longer her Potions Master. And she had come a long way from her student days. Before she had been captured, she had been one of the ministry's prize witches, smarter and more talented than any pureblood they had working for them. She was the poster child for muggle-born success. Which is exactly why the Dark Lord had come after her.

Hermione had endured her captivity well. She was clever enough to play the games Malfoy had set up for her protection. She remained patient, and mostly optimistic. She had believed that Harry would come for her up until the day Malfoy had informed them of his death on Christmas. Severus pulled her closer. She had cried, of course. But her optimism never failed. Hermione was a full-grown witch, capable and clever, his equal in every way. Which made it alright to hold her close and comfort her. At least that's what he told himself. Beyond that, he refused to examine the situation.

Severus was about to suggest they stretch out and try to get some sleep when two Death Eaters tromped down the stairs toward their cell. They pushed the guards out of their way, and with a quick wave of a wand the cell door flew open.

"What's going on!" Demanded one of the guards.

"The bounty hunter just took Draco Malfoy," the lead Death Eater replied grimly, staring at Severus and Hermione, who were still crouched by the wall. "During a secret meeting."

"Strolled right into the inner circle, grabbed Malfoy, threatened our Lord and vanished," the woman behind him added.

"Which means, it's time for these two to be moved," the first said. He turned to the guards. "Arrange for a carriage to meet us out front. We'll tell the driver where we're going when we're ready to depart." They nodded and quicky headed up the stairs.

The two Death Eaters turned back to the prisoners who were now standing in the middle of the cell. "Are you going to come quietly, or do we need to use 'Imperio' on you?"

"N-no, sir. We'll go with you." Hermione's eyes filled with tears and her small form trembled. Slowly, she started to shuffle towards them, but then seemed to trip on a rock, rolling forward into the two and knocking them to the ground.

"Quickly - their wands!" Severus commanded, already moving to put his foot on the chest of the man. Hermione pointed the woman's wand at her, all shaking gone, eye's clear and bright.

"You're never going to make it off Malfoy property," the man gritted out.

"We'll see about that." Hermione glared over at him. "Immobilus!"

The two Death Eaters lay still and dazed, staring up at the ceiling. Snape smiled at her. "Well done, Hermione."

"Thanks." Adrenaline was rushing through her body. "It'll only last about half an hour. Do you think that's enough time?"

"No." His eyes searched hers. After a second, she nodded and looked away. Grimly, he reached down, cupping the man's chin in one hand and skull in the other and twisted. Quickly he repeated the procedure on the woman beside him.

Hermione never flinched as she heard the bones snap. She felt a warm hand slip into hers. She squeezed it and offered Severus a smile. "Let's get the bloody hell out of here!"

"My sentiments, precisely."

* * *

Harry stared down at the body of Blaise Zabini, fury roiling through him. His breath came in rapid pants and his fists clenched, knuckles flashing white. He resisted the urge to kick his dead former classmate. Slowly, he strolled out of the room and down the staircase where the battle still raged on, his rage still building inside him. He watched the aurors trying to fight fair, avoiding the unforgivable curses as much as possible. Harry and Moody were the only ones who ever cast the death curse on a regular basis. As he watched, he saw Cho go down, her body twitching from Crucio, and his anger increased. A green glow surrounded him, though he did not see it.

A masked Death Eater spotted him near the stairs and drew his wand. Harry barely registered the words "Avada Kedavra." He simply waved his left hand and the curse did not hit him. He closed his eyes and threw one hand out in front of him, fingers spread and screamed, "ENOUGH!"

There was loud, rocking boom, and the room seemed to shake. Harry opened his eyes. All of the Aurors were crouched on the floor, staring at him wide-eyed. The Death Eaters, to a one, lay on the ground, most of them dead, the rest petrified. Harry met Moody's eyes as the older man rose to his feet, pride in his eyes. Harry nodded once in satisfaction, then turned and strode out the door. He had to find Hermione.

The next day, Harry clutched a cup of coffee as he entered the breakfast room at the ministry. Most of the Aurors spent so much time there, that they had decided to build a dormitory and cafeteria for them. Scanning the benches, he saw an open spot among Moody's squad. They generally ate together, and were currently in a flurry of discussion. He set his cup down, lightly sitting on the edge of his seat to sip his coffee. He was in a hurry, he had to look for Hermione again today. As he sat, the Aurors all shifted away from him, some of them even shivering as they did so. The conversation had come to a dead halt.

"Something the matter, guys?" He asked blandly.

"Harry," Cho started off, the others giving her looks of encouragement. "We wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday."

"What about yesterday?" He could feel his guard go up, enen the air around him was wary.

"Well for one - you were using wandless magic." Neville pointed out.

"That's hardly a crime." Harry replied. His face was impassive, but his heart had plummeted to his feet. They were all staring at him as if he were some kind of creature from the forbidden forest, some of them accusatory, some fearful.

"You threw off the killing curse." Terry added quietly.

"Wasn't the first time." He shrugged.

"You killed over twenty people yesterday." Colin whispered.

"I killed over twenty *Death Eaters* yesterday. I saved your lives." A hint of incredulity was sneaking into his voice.

"What happened to Blaise Zabini?" Seamus asked him. "We found him with four broken fingers and a broken neck."

"I did what I had to do." Harry said calmly, softly. "I was trying to get to Hermione. I'd do it again."

"Harry, we just - "

"What? You just what?" Harry spit venomously. "What are you guys getting at?"

"They just don't understand your power." Moody put a hand on his shoulder, pride in his voice. "They're scared of it."

"And you understand it?" Harry twisted around to look up at him, covering the hand on his shoulder with his own.

"Well, not understand it, quite. But I respect it. That was good work you did yesterday, Mr. Potter." Moody nodded sternly at him, before leaning down to whisper, "Carpe Noctem, Harry." Then he turned, and abruptly left the room the way he usually did.

Harry turned back to the table, noting how they all sat at least a foot away from him. He stood and faced Cho, leaning down until he was level with her face. His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Is that true? Are you afraid of me?"

"N-no." She tried not to lean away from him.

"Maybe you should be." He laughed as he turned and walked out of the room, toasting the table with his coffee. Let them be afraid. He could feel new power surging through his body. It was time to test it. He would no longer be afraid of Voldemort and the other Death Eaters. He would lose no more friends. He was in control now. He had the power.

* * *

Draco leaned as far back against the wall as he could. "What are you playing at, Potter?"

"Playing at?" Harry grinned. His heart had lightened a little with the knowledge that Hermione was free. He had yet to examine how he felt about Draco being a spy. He didn't trust him, but if it was true, he was one step closer to avenging Moody's death and completing his quest. "Proper question might be '_who_ am I playing with?' That would be you, Malfoy."

"And if I don't want to play?" Draco stared at the smirk spread across Harry's face. This was insanity. One moment he was staring down death, and the next . . . well, he wasn't sure what was going in Potter's head. Maybe he had finally gone off the deep end.

Harry licked his lips, Draco's eyes following the movement. Harry's smirk broadened. He carefully braced a hand against Draco's jaw, dragging a thumb over his mouth. "Oh, I think you do."

"I don't get you, Potter." Draco resisted the urge to lean into Harry's hand. Forget Potter's craziness. What about his own? He shouldn't be enjoying this. But he was. He should be fighting with Potter, exchanging insults the way they always had. Hell, dueling with him would make more sense than the primal longing that had taken hold of him. Had it really been that long since he had shagged someone? Or was something more urgent coming in to play now? "I can't figure out whether you want to kiss me or kill me."

"Feels like the same thing to me." Harry answered honestly.

"Maybe I just don't want to play with *you*, Potter." Draco bit out.

"Fine then." Harry's eyes flashed Avada Kedavra bright, as he stepped back, arms dropping to his sides. Draco let out a sigh of relief, a minute too soon. Harry grinned. "Deny me."

Harry reached a hand behind his head, tangling his tan fingers in the pale strands, and pulling Draco's head back, firmly, but without causing pain. His other hand fisted in his shirt collar, tugging his face closer, and Harry's mouth descended on Draco's, hot and hungry. Gone was the tentative kiss of someone exploring the forbidden. This was a full fledged invasion of skill and finesse that only the Bounty Hunter was capable of. Draco moaned into Harry's mouth, giving in, letting go. Forget electricity, lightning shot through him as Harry conquered his mouth, fully tasting and possessing him. When Harry bit into his lower lip, then tenderly sucked it between his own, Draco's hands reached out of their own volition to tug Harry's hips against his own.

Draco spun them around, pushing Harry back against the wall, hard enough to hear his skull connect. He took over the kiss, his hands clasping Harry's waist. Harry slid both hands up into Draco's hair, not wanting him to pull back, and thrust his hips against the other boy's. Harry was used to being in control, and he wasn't about to give it up, though. He began to walk forward, his mouth still molded to Draco's, one hand around his waist to keep contact, the other buried in hair that a Veela would have envied. Draco let him push him backwards until his heels connected with the mattress. Harry set both hands on Draco's chest and pushed him, watching with a hunter's eyes as he sprawled on his bed. "Can you deny me now?"

Draco opened his mouth to answer, when all the lights in the house blinked green twice. "What the hell?"

"Death Eaters." Harry answered, reaching for his knife and turning for the stairs in one fluid movement. "You had to know they'd come for you."

"How'd they know where I was?" Draco blinked, trying to clear his head.

Harry smiled at him, his eyes flashing with pure excitement. "I left them a trail."


	8. chapter 7

Title: Bounty Hunter

Rating: R-ish

Author: Snippy

Pairing: H/D, Hr/SS (a little)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. do not belong to me. Sadly.

Summary: Warning: dark fic, character death and H/D slash. This story is not light and hope and puppies, people. The bounty hunter is going after the Death Eaters one by one, but at what price? This story is not about black and white, it's about shades of grey. Can people change? Can a hero become a villain? Can a villain save a hero? And which is which?

* * *

"What in the bloody hell were you thinking, Potter!" Malfoy called as he followed him quickly down the stairs, trying to catch his breath, get his body under control and wrap his mind around the enigma that was charging ahead in front of him, all at the same time. "Why in the bleeding hell would you lead them to your house?"

Draco came to an abrupt halt as he jumped off the last stair and rounded his way into the first room they had entered. Harry now stood in front of the large frame of wood on the far wall. Malfoy watched, completely enthralled as Harry twisted his limbs in a series of complicated, but smooth and graceful movements, stretching his muscles and honing his sense of balance. Other than an air of anticipation, Potter appeared to be perfectly calm and at ease. He was beginning to wonder if he had forgotten all about his 'prisoner', when Harry suddenly paused.

Reaching a hand out, Harry swept the centerpiece off the board, a stunning, silver sword, and turned to face him. As he pulled it from it's sheath, the metal rang out, reverberating around the room. A shaft of light hit the blade and its gleam was echoed in Harry's eyes as he swung it around, over his head and brought it slicing forward through the air. He raised the sharpened edge to sit against his scar in a mocking salute, looking up at Draco through the black fringe of lashes and hair. Draco's breath caught at the deadly silhouette.

"Because, Malfoy." Harry offered him a roguish grin. "This is where I keep my weapons."

* * *

"Thanks for letting me move in, Moody."

"Don't mention it, Potter." Alistair growled at him. "I got enough thanks from the rest of the Aurors."

"You can be real git sometimes, you know that."

"But you've come a long way from the spoiled little boy you used to be." Moody returned with a growl. "Besides, figure if I don't let you live here, Lupin would come back from the dead and bite me."

"Probably." Harry said with a laugh as he closed the door to his bedroom. "So, why aren't you scared of me like the others?"

"Not a lot scares me these days, Potter." Moody returned gruffly. "Besides, I know what happened in the room that day - they don't."

"You do? Enlighten me, then." Harry leaned back against the door.

"You see, Potter, they think all that power came from you." Moody looked him in the eye. "But we know better, don't we?"

Harry frowned. He thought back to that strange moment. He had felt a rage that surpassed anything he had ever felt before. Then, a vortex had started deep in his stomach, sucking in waves of magic that had later exploded. "Where did it come from?"

"Oh, from you, partly." Moody said vaguely. "The rest - well, it didn't come from the Death Eaters."

"The Aurors, " Harry said, nodding. "Of course."

"You have a very unique ability, Potter. What you did has only been talked about in myth. You took power from aligned intentions, and made it your own."

Harry face took on a new level of intensity. "But can I do it again? Can I do it when I need to?"

"With practice." Moody assured him. "Maybe you should have stayed close to the others."

"No," Harry shook his head. "I can't be around them. I never should have moved into the Ministry with the other Aurors."

"Yeah?" Moody took a swig out of his flask. "I think learning about your real power was worth it. Might be worth it to explore that a little more."

"I can do that during sparring times." Harry pointed out. "It's not like I'm not working for the Ministry anymore."

"Really don't want to go back, huh?" Moody asked shrewdly. "What, are they too cold towards you, now?"

"No. Too distracting." He followed Moody down into the kitchen, taking a butterbeer out of the fridge and cracking it open. "Didn't you read my last transcript from Hogwarts? Harry Potter - does not play well with others." Harry gave a short, dark laugh. "Well, not anymore."

"That's alright, Potter." Moody said in what Harry supposed was his comforting voice. "You do just fine on your own."

"I'm beginning to see that." Harry took another drink of his butterbeer.

"Just remember, Potter. Constant vigilance means it's good to have someone watching your back, too." Moody eyed him, gruffly.

"And that's what I've got you for, old boy," Harry pointed out with a grin.

* * *

Severus Snape paced back and forth in the rose garden outside the Ministry, waiting for Hermione Granger to Apparate back from the Shrieking Shack. Potter had *generously* sent his owl back with a message:

_Snape,_

_Don't get your knickers in a twist. She's fine. She'll be back when she bloody well feels like it._

_~Potter._

After he had read the message, Potter's owl, Headcase or something, pecked him and flew off. Savior of the Wizarding World or not, Potter creeped him out these days. It figured he would have a man-eating owl to boot. Snape was a little surprised that Potter didn't chuck the whole idea of owl post altogether and just send people missives tied to various poisonous snakes.

"You look like you just lost your best friend."

He whirled around to find Hermione standing in front of him, hands clasped behind her back, one foot tucked behind the other, smiling up at him innocently. "And where have you been?"

"I was - "

"Do you know what could have happened to you?" He whirled around, robes swirling about him. Suddenly her benevolent protector of the past few years faded away into Hogwart's most feared Potions Master.

"But, I - "

"I should have left you behind in that cell, at least I always knew where you were." He finally came to a stop, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at her.

"That's not - "

"Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" He shouted.

"I- " She was cut off as he suddenly pulled her into a bone-crushing embrace. She gently put her arms around his neck, snuggling into his chest.

"I want it understood that I am not cuddling you. I am merely making sure you don't up and disappear on me again." He said into her hair. Finally, he pulled back to look at her. He wasn't exactly sure what to do now. Their relationship had been forever altered by the past few years. Things that might not have been acceptable otherwise, were excused in the dungeon. While their relationship bordered on amorous lines, they had never crossed them. He had absolutely no idea what to make of it or how to act, now that they were free.

Hermione looked up at him. "What is it?"

"Hermione, or should I be calling you Miss Granger - "

"Hermione," she stated firmly.

"I think we need to discuss some things," he said carefully.

"Like what?" She tried to step closer to him, but he reached up and removed her hands from his neck, holding them tightly in his own.

"Like what we're going to tell everyone else about what happened. Like the nature of our . . .friendship." He frowned.

"Friendship?" Hermione asked, sounding offended.

"I don't know what else to call it."

"Don't you?"

"I know what you're thinking," he said with a sigh, gripping her hands and wishing he had the courage to let go. "But there are a lot of reasons why what we have *is* just a friendship."

"It's not like you're my professor anymore," she pointed out.

"No, but I used to be. And I'm a lot older than you- "

"I'm a lot older than I used to be," she broke in bitterly.

"Listen, being stuck together for so long, without hope of rescue, it's bound to change some things, but we're not locked in a dungeon anymore."

"Thanks for pointing that out," she rolled her eyes. "Of course it changed things. But I'm ok with that. I would never have made it on my own. You got me through it."

"*You* got *me* through it." His eyes warmed and he squeezed her hands, but continued doggedly. "However, the nature and origin of our association, well, it creates a closeness that might influence your thinking, and I don't want to take advantage of - "

"Severus?" She tugged her hands out of his, and clasped them back behind his neck.

"Yes?" He looked down in her eyes, enjoying the happiness and hope that had been missing since she had heard Harry Potter had died.

"Shut up and kiss me." And she pulled him down, pressing her lips to his. For a moment, he held back, but after a second, wrapped his arms firmly around her waist, and lifted her up slightly. A smile tugged at his lips as he broke the kiss off, still holding her close. They were both free and safe. Beyond that, nothing else mattered to him anymore.

* * *

Harry crossed the room, coming to a stop in front of Draco. He was smiling, but it never touched his eyes. Draco found himself wanting to take a cautionary step back, but forced himself to remain where he was. Gently, Harry took Draco's left hand in his right, entwining their fingers.

"What are you doing?" Draco looked at their hands, confused.

"Catena nos," Harry whispered. For a second, an emerald beam wound itself around their wrists. It flashed brightly and disappeared, leaving a silver cord-like bracelet on each of them. "They won't be taking you with them tonight."

Harry turned, striding back towards the wall of weapons. When he was about three feet in front of him, Draco felt a tug on his wrist and was compelled to follow him, just as if they had been chained together by the bracelets. Draco glared at him. "You better be able to take this off, Potter."

"Don't worry. You think I want to be bound to you for eternity, Malfoy?"

"Aren't you?" Draco sneered back, softly.

Harry pretended not to hear him. He reached up and pulled a dagger identical to the one he carried in his boot, gleaming silver with a jet dragon handle. He tossed it behind him without a glance. Draco caught it by the handle, but just barely. "Careful, Malfoy."

"And what am I supposed to do with this?" He gripped the blade, remembering the sharp edge of its mate against his skin and Harry's mouth taking his breath away.

"Defend yourself." Harry answered shortly, stretching once more.

"And how do you know I won't just put it in your back?" Draco smirked. Suddenly Harry whirled around and he found himself pinned against the wall, the blade biting familiarly into the skin at the base of his neck.

"I'd like to see you try." Harry's focused eyes held his as surely as the bracelet held him. "Here's your chance to prove what side of the fight you're on, Malfoy."

"You bind me to your side, give me a knife and you *still* don't trust me?" Draco gasped, his mouth dry.

"I don't trust anyone."

"And if I'm not on your side?"

"Then I'll bury you next to your father." Harry smiled. He reached a hand out and flicked off the lights. Through the windows, Draco could see wands light up as the Death Eaters approached.

"How many are there?" Draco whispered.

"About seventeen." Harry answered easily. "Depending on whether Voldemort wanted to send the LeStranges or keep them for personal guards."

"Seventeen?" Draco licked his lips, and Harry's eyes filled with smoke as they followed the movement. "Why don't they just rush the house? What are they waiting for?"

"They're scared." Harry pressed closer to Draco, pushing him further into the wall. Adrenaline coursed through his body.

"S-scared?" Draco hissed, trying to keep the groan out of his voice at the sudden friction, wondering how Harry could tease him while Death Eaters waited outside to kill him, and then realizing that Harry got off on the intensity of the situation. "Of what?"

Harry leaned forward, ghosting his lips over Draco's, before looking into his eyes once more, a feral grin on his face. "Me."


	9. Chapter 8

Title: Bounty Hunter

Rating: R-ish

Author: Snippy

Pairing: H/D, Hr/SS (a little)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. do not belong to me. Sadly.

Summary: Warning: dark fic, character death and H/D slash. This story is not light and hope and puppies, people. The bounty hunter is going after the Death Eaters one by one, but at what price? This story is not about black and white, it's about shades of grey. Can people change? Can a hero become a villain? Can a villain save a hero? And which is which?

* * *

Draco followed Harry out the door of the Shrieking Shack, feeling more alive than the first time he had stolen his father's broom for a late night joy fly. He was also scared spitless, but he had never let that hold him back before. Harry strolled in front of him, a walk that betrayed no fear. They stopped, standing side by side. Three hooded figures carrying lit wands approached and Harry regarded them calmly, head casually tilted to the side.

"Good evening," Harry called, cordially.

"We have come for Mr. Malfoy," stated one of them as they came to a stop three feet in front of them.

"Not staying for tea, then?" Harry smiled, mockingly. "What a pity."

"We are prepared to make you a deal. We know where you live now. If you let Malfoy come with us, we will leave and never return." The man did not stumble over the words, but the tension in his face spoke for itself. "Will you agree to these terms?"

"Do you give your solemn word as a Death Eater?" He asked with stinging sarcasm.

"Yes." The man replied smugly, sure that he had the upper hand now that they had found the home of the Bounty Hunter.

"Not good enough." With no further warning, Harry drew his sword and cleanly sliced the man's head off, smiling as it hit the ground with a satisfying thud. One of the other two caught the body as it fell, spattering his black robe with blood. The other drew his wand, yelling, "Crucio!"

Harry grinned as he let the curse hit him and then bounce back at the man who had cast the curse. He let it take full effect before whispering, "Finite Incatatum."

As the man tried to crawl to his feet, two of his comrades approached Harry, one still wore his Death Eater mask, the other had a long scar running down his cheek, a souvenir from his last bounty hunter encounter. Both men had drawn their wands, Scar held a sword.

"What now, Potter?" Draco whispered beside him.

"Don't die." Harry answered as he offered the advancing Death Eaters a mocking salute with his sword.

Draco nodded and decided it was time he stopped sitting back and waiting for his fate to take him. It appeared he was not supposed to die. Not today, at least. He drew his wand, yelling, "Expelliarmous!" The two wands hit the ground near him. "Accio wands!"

Harry never hesitated. He was neither waiting for Draco's assistance, nor unaware of the advantage he had been afforded. He advanced, sword raised to clash with the armed Death Eater, as the other retreated. Metal clashed, screaming through the air and dusting the men with sparks. Draco felt himself being tugged closer to the battle by his invisible bond with Harry, and quickly learned to shadow his steps to avoid being jarred or interfering with Harry's thrusts and parries. It took him a moment to realize that Harry was only playing with the man, letting him feel he was winning before delivering blows that forced him back with speed, grace and skill rather than the sheer brute force he was combating.

"What are you playing at?" Scar called out.

"Why, it would appear I'm about to kill you." Harry answered softly as he nicked the man's shoulder a little too close to his neck for comfort.

"Give up, Bounty Hunter. My Lord is more powerful than you can imagine," Scar panted. "Join us, and we can both die easy deaths of old age."

"A traitor like you doesn't deserve an easy death, and I intend to make sure you won't have one when I kill you." Harry grinned, easily batting his opponent's sword to the ground.

"You want to talk about traitors? How about your mentor, Moody?" Scar stared at him, knowing that Harry was done playing. "He was a Pureblood. He should have been on our side. But then he always was a crazy, worthless old git. Kinda glad he decided to join Dumbledore and died for his trouble."

"Yeah. But you forgot one thing about that 'traitor'." Harry offered the man a mocking grin. "I killed him, too." He smiled as he sliced his sword through the man's lower intestines, turned it and pulled it back out. Draco watched in grim horror as Harry let the man bleed for a few minutes before drawing his wand and muttering, "Avada Kedavra."

Harry looked up, sword in hand, challenge written in his eyes. "Would anybody else like to negotiate?" He looked around, but the night held a deadly silence. "No? All right then."

Harry leaned down and wiped his blade clean on the grass. He carefully sheathed it once more, now brandishing his wand. He reached out his hand, taking hold of Draco's arm. "Harry? What are you - "

"Avada Kedavra," Harry whispered, pointing his wand at the masked figure still backing away, shaking his head in disbelief.

Draco shuddered as he felt the magic run up his spine and through his arm to the point of contact with Harry. A gasp escaped his lips as the masked Death Eater fell to the ground. Harry let go and Draco felt the loss like a physical force, after effects tingling down his back. He whispered, "Dear Merlin."

Harry began advancing towards the fourteen figures still left. In a flash, they all vanished. Harry's lips curved in a sinful smile. "Oh, they don't want to play with me anymore."

* * *

"You're insane, old man."

"Mad, actually." Moody grinned at him.

"It's impossible. You can't throw off 'Avada'. It either hits you and you die or misses you and you don't." Harry stated firmly, turning away to gaze at the sky once more. The pair were sitting on the roof of the shrieking shack, having a butter beer and getting ready to turn in for the night when Moody had decided to lay his newest insight into Harry's unique abilities on him.

"No, *I* can't. But you can," He replied gruffly. "I've seen you do it, Potter."

"I've only done it once, Moody." Harry touched his scar. "And it had nothing to do with me."

"It had everything to do with you, boy. Stop being a little git and listen to me. I know what I saw." Moody turned to face him.

"What are you talking about?" Harry felt a twinge in the bottom of his stomach and tried to drown it with the rest of his butter beer, but it only grew as he stared at Moody.

"Today. I saw it today."

"The only person hit today was Lee." Harry took a moment to give a silent toast to the fallen Auror. "Another curse that was meant for me."

"Exactly. Where was Lee standing when he was hit?"

"Next to me." Harry muttered bitterly. "I'm beginning to think Malfoy was right when he said that I was famous for people jumping in the way when I was about to die."

"Lucius said - "

"Draco." Harry shrugged. "When we were still in school."

"Potter, pay attention!" Moody's voice carried a new level of intensity to it. "Lee didn't jump in the way of the curse."

"I know, I know. I was just being - "

"Shut up, Potter! I'm not trying to make you feel better." Moody's hand settled on his shoulder. Harry stopped, meeting his eyes and feeling the dread that had been sitting in his stomach start to consume him. "The curse was deflected off of you and hit the closest person next to you. Just like it always has."

"What do you - "

"You really think all Death Eaters are that bad of a shot? That not one of them could have hit you in all this time?" Moody shook him slightly. "They're out there, aiming for you, and you're the only one they can't kill. They hit you. They hit you all the time, Potter. It just doesn't matter."

"So, you're saying if Lee wasn't standing next to me . . . no, that's impossible." Harry shook his head.

"Think, Potter. How many have we lost that were right beside you when they died?" Moody pointed out.

Images of his fallen friends and former schoolmates danced in his head. One by one, he saw them hit the ground, that maddening green light in their eyes. He saw himself stepping over them to attack once more. Of course, many had been killed regardless to their proximity to Harry. But he had never realized just how many had been physically close to him.

"That's just because the Death Eaters are aiming for me like you said. They're in a high contact area." Harry stated, trying to sound convinced of that fact himself.

"Then why not you, Harry? Why aren't you dead yet?"

"I don't know."

"Well, listen to me then, because I do." And that was all Moody had to say on the matter. He stood and left Harry to ponder the questions he had raised.

Harry argued violently with the idea for a moment, but stopped to wonder why the idea bothered him so much. His eyes scanned the dark night, and suddenly he knew, just as surely as he knew the pit in his stomach was never going to go away. He replayed Ron's death before his eyes, over and over again. He had only closed his eyes for a second. Ron had fallen three feet to his left and slightly behind him. Ron could not have possibly been in front of him when the curse hit. The Weasley's were right. He had killed their youngest son. And scores of others.

Harry rested his head on his arms. He could picture Ron the first day he had met him, on the train. How nervous he had been when he had heard Harry's name. He could hear Ron's voice echoing in his ears, "Is it true then . . .do you really have the . . . the scar?" Idly, Harry traced the scar on his forehead once more. What had he said to Moody? "I've only done it once, Moody. And it had nothing to do with me." According to Dumbledore, that time was all Lilly Potter.

Suddenly Harry felt as if he would choke. He sat up straight, trying to breathe evenly. If his mother had been that close to him in the room when Voldemort tried to kill him, if what Moody was suggesting were true, there was only one conclusion he could reach about his parents' death. "It had everything to do with me."


	10. Chapter 9

Title: Bounty Hunter

Rating: R-ish

Author: Snippy

Pairing: H/D, Hr/SS (a little)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. do not belong to me. Sadly.

Summary: Warning: dark fic, character death and H/D slash. This story is not light and hope and puppies, people. The bounty hunter is going after the Death Eaters one by one, but at what price? This story is not about black and white, it's about shades of grey. Can people change? Can a hero become a villain? Can a villain save a hero? And which is which?

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long! Please forgive me! And before you ask, yes you can expect Trading Spaces to be updated sometime soon - probably before Feb. Again, sincerest apologies and thanks to my reviewers. I love you all so much!

* * *

Harry stared for a moment at the empty space where the Death Eaters had stood, before turning sharply on his heel and walking back into the house. Draco was jerked out of his stunned state, as the binding spell forced him to follow.

"What the bloody hell was that?" The blond hissed.

"Those were Death Eaters," Harry smirked.

"You're a riot, Potter." Draco narrowed his eyes at him. "I demand an explanation."

"Do you? That's nice." Harry sauntered over to his weapons board, carefully placing the sword in it's rightful position. He stretched languidly for a moment, easing kinks and tension from his body. He studied his guest from under lowered lashes.

The years had changed Harry; there was little left of The Boy Who Lived. Yet, Draco seemed mostly untouched by the passage of time. He stood taller, and a little heavier of course. His hair was now mussed, his clothes dirty and torn by his recent ordeal, but a shower and a comb would put him back in the role of the aristocrat's son, dutifully following Lucius' wishes.

"See anything you like?" Draco questioned sardonically.

"Like? No." Harry smirked, slowly prowling towards him. "Want? Now that's another question," He purred.

"You don't always get what you want." Draco stated sullenly, trying to control the hitch in his breathing.

"Not always, no." Harry conceded, green eyes flashing.

* * *

They were still afraid of him, he could see it in their eyes. But somehow, they managed to get past that and fight by his side. Metaphorically anyway. Once he had figured out that Moody was right, he never let any aurors get close to him during battle. A rueful grin crossed his face. Not that he'd had to twist their arms to get them to keep their distance. But perhaps that same fear that held them at bay had also won their trust. They could see something shining in his eyes, now. The same thing that was beginning to scare the other side. Voldemort's death.

Moody's group of aurors were currently holed up in a cabin in the woods, where they were planning their defense strategies with what Harry was caustically insisting was holiday cheer.

The former Gryffindor was currently regarding the items stacked by their depressingly tiny, but brightly decorated tree. He looked over at Moody with a wry grin. "Nothing like weapons and poisons to get you in the Christmas spirit."

"B-butterbeer, Harry?" Colin said, tentatively offering him a bottle as he entered the room.

"Thanks, Colin." Harry said quietly, not wanting to make any loud noises or sudden moves. Colin Creevey was still quite excitable, and being around Harry, especially lately, tended to make it worse. He could just picture broken glass all over the floor if he startled Colin while he was handing out drinks.

Turning to Moody, with a now familiar smirk, Harry held out his glass. "To what should we toast tonight?"

The other aurors held up their own drinks as they gathered a tiny bit closer to Harry and Moody, being careful not to get *too* close. Moody's scowl was almost affectionate as it landed on Harry. He opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by the rest of his Aurors beating him to it.

"Constant Vigilance!" They all shouted together, a measure of humor appearing in the group that rarely had time for such luxuries.

Sometime later, Harry finished his last holiday drink by the cool window, eyes searching the inky night. It was late. Yet in the East, Harry detected a subtle lightening, signaling the coming morning. He set the butterbeer bottle down on the windowsill. Behind him, he could hear the others preparing, gathering weapons, practicing with their wands. The moment was closing in. This gathering was no Christmas retreat as it had been meant to appear. The Aurors spy network had sent word of an 'event' occurring in this little town. At dawn.

The Dark Mark appeared in the distance, above the sunrise, and Harry turned for the door, his pack already on his shoulder. He watched Colin and Cho trail the others out the door, as he and Moody followed. As they stepped outside, curses streaking around them, Harry placed his hand on the older man's shoulder.

"Alright there, Potter?"

"Yeah." Harry gave him a twisted grin. "Merry Christmas, Moody."

Moody looked up into the arising sunlight. "Carpe *diem*, Potter."

* * *

Harry continued to close in on Draco, backing him to the wall. He smirked. "So what about you, Malfoy? Does the Death Eater's son get everything he wants?"

"Not exactly." Draco returned, tersely. His eyes focused on the smirk crossing Harry's face, an expression well worn in, but not belonging to Hogwart's golden boy.

"Oh, so cold now?" Harry mocked him. "Ah, Draco, don't you like me anymore?"

"Stop playing with me, Potter." Draco bit out, continuing to replay the night's earlier events through his head. "I want to know what the hell you did to me."

"Why, Malfoy, I haven't begun to play with you." Harry grinned darkly, before giving the former Slytherin a long, sultry once-over. "Yet."

Draco swallowed hard, but stood his ground, metaphorically, that is. Harry sighed.

"Alright then, Malfoy." Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "You always were a clever one. Why don't you tell me?"

Draco nodded once. "You . . . that is . . . you grabbed my arm . . .and then . . ."

"Didn't you used to be more articulate?" Harry mocked him. "I took your arm and cast the Killing Curse."

Draco's brow furrowed. "You used *my* magic."

"So I did."

"How long have you been able to do that?" Draco stared at him incredulously.

"Exploit others' powers? Since my mother died." Harry answered with a harsh laugh, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Hey, everyone has a talent. Some people can touch their tongue to their nose . . ."

"Something else . . ." Draco's mind raced. "Crucio doesn't hurt you?"

"It can." Harry shrugged. "If I'm alone when I'm hit. But I can throw it off fairly quickly."

"And if you're not alone?" Draco asked slowly, trying to remember the rumors he had heard about the bounty hunter from his contacts at the ministry, as well as the other Death Eaters.

"Then it doesn't hit me."

"It doesn't - "

"It hits someone else. Whoever's closest." Harry interrupted, impatiently.

"Oh." Draco tried to process the information, wondering how you worked with a team of Aurors if none of them dared come near you. "Well. Fuck me."

"Not a bad idea." Harry leaned against Draco's lanky frame, resting his elbows on the wall at either side of the blonde's head for support, palms flat against the wall. He slowly, deliberately kissed him, sinuously moving his body against Draco's for friction. Harry pulled back and took in Draco's appearance once more. "You look like shit, Malfoy."

"Thank you, Potter. Duly noted." He replied, grey eyes searching Harry's face.

"That's settled then. Into the shower." Harry's tone held no playfulness. He turned and headed for the upstairs bathroom, Draco, still magically chained to him, followed."Excuse me?" Draco called.

"You're dirty. And so am I." Harry replied. "I'm not letting you sleep in my bed like that." Harry stopped at a cupboard in the hallway, gathering two thick white towels into his arms. "If you don't want to shower, then you're sleeping on the floor."

Draco followed Harry into the bathroom. Like the rest of the Shrieking Shack, it was clean, but plain. A shower stall had been installed next to the claw footed bathtub. A toilet occupied the corner opposite, next to a small sink. "So, does that mean you're going to unchain us?"

"No." Harry tossed the towels on the top of the toilet, and began to run warm water in the sink. Reaching toward his boot, he pulled out his favorite knife, a copy of the one he had allowed Draco to use earlier. He spread a thin coating of shaving cream over his jaw, and began to scrape the blade across his skin, still looking at Draco.

"Don't you want to use the mirror to do that?" Draco questioned, frustrated, out of sorts, and realizing why Harry seemed to have constant five 'o clock shadow.

"No." Harry narrowed his eyes at Draco.

"How disgustingly cliche, Potter." Draco moved closer. "Killed too many people to look in a mirror?"

Harry glared at him. "My side of the fight just doesn't leave a lot of time for vanity, Malfoy. I wouldn't expect a pretty boy like you to understand."

"Ah, shucks, Harry." Draco smirked at him, stepping closer. "You think I'm pretty?"

"In a viper sort of way, yes." Harry's hand stilled as Draco caught his wrist.

"Give me the knife."

"No."

"Potter, stop being a tiresome prat, and give me the knife. If I hurt your delicate skin, I'm sure you can curse me into oblivion." Draco sighed.

"I could." Harry let him take the knife, not entirely sure if the other man would help him or slit his throat, and not entirely sure if it mattered.

"There now. If you won't look in the mirror, you can at least get a proper shave." Draco wasn't sure why he was doing this as he ran the blade over Potter's jaw, recalling how Harry had held the blade close to his skin, mere hours earlier, with a far more sinister intent. Harry never flinched, never closed his eyes. Draco could feel his warm breath on his hand, but it was even. "Do you trust me?"

Harry looked at him, bemused. "Trust a Death Eater's son? A Malfoy? The former so called Prince of Slytherin?"

"Yet, you let me hold a knife to your throat." And Draco placed the blade against his jugular, for effect, not pressing at all.

"I'm confident that I can at least take you down with me." Harry replied flatly, meeting Draco's gaze.

Draco nodded once, and finished quickly. He handed the knife back to Harry, who balanced it on the sink.

Harry walked over to the shower, pulling his sweater off over his head. He dropped in unceremoniously on the floor, before reaching over to turn the faucet on. When he turned back around, he found Draco studying his naked torso with a heated gaze. Unbuckling his belt, he met Draco's eyes. "Waiting for an invitation, Malfoy?" Harry smirked. "Feel free to throw your clothes on the floor, too."


	11. Chapter 10

Title: Bounty Hunter

Rating: R-ish

Author: Snippy

Pairing: H/D, Hr/SS (a little)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. do not belong to me. Sadly.

Summary: Warning: dark fic, character death and H/D slash. This story is not light and hope and puppies, people. The bounty hunter is going after the Death Eaters one by one, but at what price? This story is not about black and white, it's about shades of grey. Can people change? Can a hero become a villain? Can a villain save a hero? And which is which?

FYI:

(****) indicates a scene shift.

(*~*~*~*) indicates a flashback

(*word*) emphasis

A/N's: I know exactly what you were all hoping for in this chapter, and let me assure you that it's there. That said, bear in mind that this story is R, not NC-17. If you would like to read the NC-17 version of this chapter, leave me a review with your email address (not just your address, I want your opinion, too, lol!), and I will send it to you.

Also, this chapter is at least five pages longer than most of the others, so I hope you enjoy it. Much love ~Snippy 

****************************************************************************************************

Draco took a slow, deep breath and reached for his shirt, pulling it over his head in slow motion, before reaching for his trousers. He felt the cloth tug at his skin where it had been scratched and the blood had dried to the cloth. He watched, almost dispassionately as the black fabric pooled on the floor. In the back of his mind, he could hear the shower running, and the warm steam seemed to cling to him. His face was calm, but his heart was trying to pound out of his chest. He looked up to see Harry stepping into the shower, the hot spray hitting his face and sluicing over his body as he raised his hands to slick back his hair. Draco's breath caught.

As he watched, Harry turned to him and opened his eyes, leaning back against the wall of the shower. He crooked an eyebrow at him. "Coming?"

"I'm not even breathing hard yet, Potter." He murmured walking slowly to the shower. As he stepped under the water, Harry reached around him, closing the shower door. Then he hooked his hands around the back of Draco's neck and pulled him into a sudden, fierce kiss.

Pulling back, Harry offered Draco a feral grin, before reaching for the bar of soap on the shelf under the showerhead. He set about cleaning the both of them up in a perfunctory way, when he heard Draco's sharp intake of breath. Pausing, he took note of several cuts and abrasions scattered over the other boy's body. Dimly he realized that the soap was stinging parts of himself as well.

Quickly, he switched positions with Draco so that he was now directly under the spray, rinsing the soap away. Harry grasped Draco's bound hand. There was a dark slash across his knuckles. Holding Draco's gaze, a wicked glint in his eyes, he brought the blond's knuckles to his mouth and slowly licked the wound. Draco hissed again, more in anticipation of the sting than in actual pain. He looked down at his hand and found that the wound had completely healed, leaving pale, unblemished skin behind. His eyes widened. "How - "

Draco's words died in his throat as Harry leaned forward and began licking the scratches on his neck. He let out a low moan, which Harry followed with a soft growl. Harry moved to Draco's collarbone, running his tongue lightly over the flesh, then to a bruise on his bicep, then the scratch on the inside of his elbow. Carefully, Harry licked every scratch on Draco's body, ending up on his knees before the blond to heal the one just under his navel. Harry looked up at Draco through his wet, spiky black lashes. Draco was leaning heavily against the wall of the shower, his head thrown back, an expression of almost pain on his features.

"P-potter . . . " He panted. Draco reached down, tangling one fist in Harry's black hair, and roughly tugged him to his feet, holding him still as Draco hungrily covered his mouth with his own.

Harry managed to pull away long enough to gasp, "Bed. Now."

Draco stepped out of the shower, tugging Harry with him. He pushed Harry towards the bedroom, keeping as little space between them as possible. Vaguely he realized the shower was still running, and frankly, he didn't care. When he felt Harry's ankles hit the mattress on the floor, he shoved Harry onto it, quickly following him down.

Draco straddled Harry, gathering his wrists in one hand above the dark-haired man's head. For a moment, he was caught in Harry's eyes, green depths swirling with raw heat. He allowed himself the luxury of looking Harry over once more, his breath still coming in shallow pants. The boy-who-lived was covered in faint white scars, and fresh scratches and bruises. One of them was clearly from the sword fight, though Draco had never noticed when the Death Eater's blade had connected with Harry's skin. Harry had never flinched. Harry stared back at him, a question in his eyes.

Draco contemplated the complex healing spell that Harry had just performed. He vaguely recalled that it had to do with shamanistic magic and calling on the natural healing powers of magical creatures, such as the Phoenix. Such a spell should have drained Harry, but it barely seemed to have effected him at all. He came to a quick decision, lowering his mouth to the deep cut from the sword.

Harry's hand on his chest stopped him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Returning the favor." He replied, looking into Harry's eyes once more.

"You don't have to do that, Malfoy." Harry's gentle tone softened the name he used to hurl as an insult.

"Yes, I do. Purebloods pay back their debts. It's a matter of honor." Draco answered firmly, pulling Harry's hand off his chest. He resettled his weight, groaning as he came into intimate contact with Harry once more, and slowly, gently, began licking the slash across his upper shoulder. Harry could feel the salty rasp of Draco's tongue stinging the wound, then agonizingly slowly it began to heal. Draco sat back, visibly shaken from the effort of performing such a draining spell. He started to move towards another, when Harry once again stopped him.

"Enough," He whispered. "We have better uses for your energy." And he quickly rolled the blond on to his back, covering any protest with his mouth.

********

"Hermione!" Ginny Weasley called, as she stepped out into the rose garden of the Ministry. Arthur had agreed to bring her to the Ministry when she had heard that Hermione and Professor Snape had finally been rescued and were residing there until other arrangements could be made. "Hermione, are you - Oh!"

Hermione barely registered the feminine voice calling her name, her mind to enraptured in the man currently whispering it in reverence as he kissed her neck. But when the young red-head squealed loudly in shock, she managed to pull herself away. "Oh, Ginny!"

Severus let go of Hermione, allowing her to climb off his lap and go embrace her friend. He fought the blush that desperately wanted to tinge his cheekbones at being 'caught' in such an unseemly situation. Severus Snape did *not* blush. He stood, quickly moving to stand behind Hermione as she finally released the younger woman.

"Miss Weasley, you're looking well," Severus said, gently. They had been informed of Ginny's capture and subsequent rescue by the ministry, when they had filled them in on the more important events they had missed while in captivity.

"Thank you," She whispered back, thinking that was the kindest tone he had ever used with her. Though he was nicer to her than most Gryffindors. She had come to him in her second year for bottles of dreamless sleep potion when she had started having nightmares about Tom Riddle. "It's good to see you, Professor Snape."

Snape nodded, setting his hands on Hermione's shoulders. They had been rescued barely more than a day, and he still felt as if he was dreaming every time he gazed up at the sky. Hermione leaned back against him, smiling gently.

"Ginny, how are you? We heard that you had been kidnapped." Hermione looked at the younger girl with concern.

"I'm - fine, actually. Harry rescued me." Ginny grinned. "Again."

"So, you've seen . . ." Hermione trailed off, not knowing quite how to ask what was on her mind. "You've seen Harry?"

"Yes," Ginny said, quietly, green light flashing in her mind's eyes. "He's really changed. He was sort of - "

"Scary?" Hermione asked sympathetically.

"I was going to say hot." Ginny grinned back. 

Hermione laughed out loud.

********

Harry came awake easily and silently, as he always did. In his Hogwarts days, he had been prone to sprawling, yawning and stretching. Not very stealth. Now, he slept and woke deathly still. He took a moment to examine his surroundings, another morning ritual.

His room was still dark, the sky outside lightening though the sun had yet to show. His wand was within easy summoning distance. His dagger . . . where was his dagger?

An image of the knife gripped in a pale hand, the blade flat against his neck rose to ming, bringing memories in swift succession.

Bathroom. Shower. Malfoy.

Fighting the urge to turn sharply, he took the rest of his situation in. His back was pressed against warm skin, and a strong arm was looped loosely around his waist. He swallowed thickly, then set his jaw. Cooly he lifted the arm off his waist and silently slipped out of bed. He summoned his wand and pointed it at the offending appendage. "Finite Incatetem."

The invisible chain between his arm and Malfoy's vanished. Harry was feeling a sudden need to put some distance in between him and Draco. He grabbed clothes out of his closet and headed into the bathroom. He dressed quickly, but carefully. Today was a very special day. His best dragon-hide leather pants, a black cashmere sweater Hermione had given him years ago for Christmas. Finally he added his werewolf's tooth necklace. He slid his dagger into it's sheath on his ankle, before walking back into his room to wake Draco. He was surprised to see grey eyes staring at him from his rumpled bed.

Draco looked Harry over, a satisfied smirk on his face. Harry's black, slightly shaggy hair was slightly disheveled, two dark bruises bearing Draco's teeth marks showed above his sweater. Though he seemed perpetually weary, his clean shaven face held the glow of last night's passion. The dragon leather pants were slung low on his hips. His gem-green eyes glinted wickedly.

Draco was sprawled indolently on the bed, a sheet draped over his hip. "Good morning, beautiful."

"Get up." Harry turned on his heel and headed downstairs to his small, sparse kitchen. The kitchen was the warmest room in the house. Once it had been sunny, but the many windows were now boarded up. Still, it was as close to cozy as any room in the house got. He flicked his wand at the coffee-maker, which immediately began to perk. Then he cracked three eggs into a pan, sprinkled in salt and stirred them briskly. He didn't eat a lot, but he needed to be at full strength today. He had efficiently sliced cheese, mushrooms and ham, tossing them into the mixture, when he heard Draco's footsteps. 

"Potter, you didn't have to make me breakfast," Draco drawled. "Flowers and a phone call the day after would have been sufficient."

"Funny." Harry replied, dumping the omelette onto a plate and slicing it in half. He set the plat in the middle of his small table. "Sit."

Draco pulled back one of two chairs, elegantly sitting down with perfect posture. Harry poured two cups of coffee, set them on the table, and took the chair across from him. He picked up the fork next to the plate, taking a bite of the omelette, then held the fork out to Draco, who just raised an eyebrow and stared at him.

"Eat."

"Not that this isn't very romantic or that I'm not enjoying your charmingly mono-syllabic presence, but do you think I could have one for my very own?"

"One what?" Harry asked blanly.

"Fork. You've heard of them, yes?"

"No."

"No? What have you been using to keep your spoons company all these years?"

Harry's lips twitched. "No, you can't have a fork."

Draco was taken aback. "Why not?"

"I've only got one." Harry admitted.

Draco looked puzzled for a moment, then understanding dawned on him. "Not much for company?"

"No."

"All evidence to the contrary," Draco smirked, touching a mark on his own neck. "If you treat all your prisoners this way, I can just imagine what you could do for an actual guest."

Draco accepted the fork. He knew he could transfigure one for himself, though it would never have occurred to Harry. As a muggle-born, he did not rely on magic to solve every problem. It was probably why he had no qualms about killing with weapons instead of spells, Draco reflected darkly. He was about to suggest the configuration, when Harry, who assumed he was upset about using the same fork as him, spoke up.

"Give over, Malfoy. Surely after last night you can share a fork with me."

"Point taken." Draco saluted him with the aforementioned utensil before digging into his food, surprised at how good it was. He offered Harry a brief smile of thanks, before handing the fork back. They quickly finished breakfast that way, passing the fork back and forth in fairly companionable silence.

Harry found himself enjoying the company, but he tamped the feeling back down. Draining his coffee, he got to his feet and went into the weapons room, Draco following. He slid a black belt with a sheath attached around his waist. Then he took the sword of Gryffindor off the wall and slid it in place. He turned to face Draco. "Ready?"

"For what?" Draco drawled teasingly.

"Field trip."

Draco was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing yesterday, though he had cast a cleaning spell on them. He slicked his hand through his hair, knowing it would only rumple it more. Eyeing Harry warily, he asked, "You're not planning to Apparate into the Dark Lord's lair and ask him to brunch, are you?"

"No." Harry grinned for a moment, but the amusement left his face as he held out his hand to Draco.

Draco just stared for a moment, briefly thinking about his long ago offer to be friends with Harry. He kept his hands at his side.

Impatiently, Harry reached out and grabbed his hand around the wrist. "Catena Nos."

The invisible bond reappeared and the two Disapparated with a loud pop.

***********

"Hermione?" Ginny asked softly. They were seated next to each other on one of the courtyards many decorative and uncomfortable benches. "I got an owl from Harry today."

"What? What did it say?" Hermione asked urgently, pulled from her feeling lethargy.

Wordlessly, Ginny handed her the letter.

'Ginny,

I'll give your regards to Tom. Your nightmares end today. And . . . thank you.

~H'

"Tom? Tom RIDDLE?!" Hermione gasped.

Ginny nodded somberly. "He's going after Voldemort. Today."

The letter had chilled the redhead. It was not a 'goodbye' or a 'just-in-case' letter. There was no doubt in Harry's mind. No fear. No possibility of failure for him. The letter also warmed her. She thought she had failed to reach him during their encounter. But maybe there was still something left of the boy who had been her hero, some scrap of humanity.

"I have to go." Hermione announces.

"What? Why?" Snape spun around from where he had been studying the phoenix fountain, while he let the girls catch up. Logically he knew that it would have been perfectly safe to have left them completely alone, but he could not bring himself to leave Hermione's presence. Twenty feet away was plenty of space when he had shared a nine by nine cell with her for so long.

Hermione handed him the letter. Snape cursed under his breath.

"I have to go - I have to stop him!" Hermione cried, extremely upset.

"No, you don't," Snape said harshly. "He was born to do this. He has to."

"Fine. And I'll be standing by his side when he does," She said firmly, though her eyes welled with tears. 

"Yes, because that did Ron a whole helluva lot of good." Ginny shot back, alarmed. Hermione winced, but her expression was resolved. "You can't go alone, Hermione. It's not safe. And he doesn't need to be worrying about you while he's trying to fight."

"You don't understand," Hermione whispered.

Snape recognized the hurt and fear in her tone, and pulled her into a tight embrace. "It'll be alright."

"I can't lose him. Not again," She whispered brokenly, tears running softly down her face. "I can't lose anyone else."

Ginny felt herself choking up. Then, before she could say anything, there was a flash of light and Hermione fell limply against Snape. "Wha - what happened?"

Snape was not alarmed however. He calmly gathered Hermione in his arms, then settled her gently onto one of the benches, brushing her hair away from her tear-stained face. He summoned his broom, then turned to Ginny. "I had to. I can't let her go."

"I noticed," Ginny said wryly.

"I'm going to find Potter."

"You are?" Ginny asked blandly, holding onto her temper. Hadn't the man been listening when Hermione had said that she could not lose anyone else? "And then what?"

"I'm going to talk to him. Try to explain that this might not be the best time." Snape snapped, not used to being questioned.

"Uh-huh." Ginny smirked. "So, a cold-blooded killer bent on avenging his parents, my brother and countless others is going to just wait until you're ready because you . . . what? Explained? Talked some reason into him?"

Snape stared at her for a moment, then gestured to Hermione. "When she wakes up, tell her - tell her that I'm sorry, and that I do love her." He gave one last stoic look at Hermione before climbing onto his broomstick and taking to the sky.

Only to find himself lying flat on his back on the ground, staring up at a very angry Ginny Weasley, who had just stupefyed him off his broom. "Tell her yourself, you great, greasy prat."

***********

Draco opened his eyes to a barren landscape. There were in a valley of some kind, and rolling hills surrounded them, high enough to touch the clouds that formed a greyish ceiling, softly muting the light. It was warm enough for him to be comfortable in his sweater, but a chill went through him. As far as the eye could see, the valley was filled with grave stones.

"Where are we?"

"A graveyard," Harry replied.

"I know that, Potter," Draco snapped. "What are we doing here."

"Just saying hello to someone," Harry answered softly. 

"In a graveyard?"

"Yes." Harry began to walk through the gravestones, not stopping to read the names. Finally he paused, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he slowly knelt on the ground.

"Hello, Mom. Dad."

Draco fell silent, feeling as if he shouldn't be there, but because of the chaining spell, unable to leave. Instead, he stood behind Harry, arms folded behind his back, with his head bowed respectfully.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered. He spoke lightly, but his voice was full of pain. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long to do this for you. And I'm sorry that I'm not the hero everyone thought I would be, the son you hoped I'd be. I'm sorry I have to do it this way." His voice grew stronger. "But know, that I do this for you. I love you."

Harry stood, remaining silent for a moment, before blowing a kiss to the grave stones. "Goodbye."

He turned, moving quickly away from the markers, head bowed. Draco followed quickly behind him. "Potter! Wait up!" Harry kept walking. "Harry, stop!"

"What?" He paused and turned around. Draco had half expected to see tears in the other man's eyes, but his face was dry and calm.

"Harry, do you . . . can I . . ." Draco, for the first time in his life, found himself at a loss for words. He had never been good at comforting people.

"No, Draco, I don't want to talk about," Harry said, coldly. "Especially not with you."

"Why not with me?" Draco questioned, harshly.

"Maybe you didn't get the owl, Malfoy. I'm not the touchy-feely type. I don't want to share and cry and hug and grow. I just want to kill something."

"Well, that's a start," Draco offered. "You don't trust me, even now, I know that."

Harry just looked at him. "I don't trust anyone."

"And why is that, Potter? You used to," Draco prodded, leaving the sympathy out of his voice this time. 

"Why should I? People die or they kill you. And I don't have much use for either." Harry pointed out. "And if I wanted to 'talk' I have friends for that."

"Not anymore."

Harry winced, slightly, but tossed back, "And you're not one of them."

"But I'm the only one here." He pointed out. "And I'm guessing that with that new little parlor trick of yours, you could use another wizard around for the fight. In fact, I'm betting that's why you put this chain on me." He held up the arm with the invisible chain. "What I don't understand is why you took it off this morning."

"Needed some space." Harry bit out. Inside, he was twisted with conflicting emotions, emotions that he had fought back with Moody's training. Somehow he had lost a measure of that control. In a way it felt good, but it also scared him. And he hadn't been scared in a long time.

"But you put it back." Draco pointed out.

"So I did."

"Face it, Potter." Draco smirked at him. "You need me right now." His face turned more serious. "And I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Harry's eyes flashed. 

Draco held up the hand that was magically connected to Harry's. "And something tells me that you don't want me to leave."

"Maybe not," Harry conceded. "But don't get your hopes up. It's just so I can use you like I used all the others. And you'll probably die."

Draco winced. It had occurred to him that as closely tied to Harry as he was that fighting next to him would put him in danger. But he didn't care. He had spent years playing the villain to help the Order of the Phoenix, and had come too close to becoming what he pretended to be. Now, he wanted the real fight.

"I trust you, Harry." Draco intoned solemnly. "Isn't is about time you returned the favor?"

"Standing here, *here*," Harry gestured back towards his parents' grave. "You're going to tell me I should trust you."

"I didn't kill your parents, Harry." Draco said softly. "The same cannot be said of you."

"I never asked you to trust me." Harry bit out, a flash of Lucius' prone form covered in snakes crossing his thoughts.

"Didn't you?" Draco asked, once again looking at his bound arm. He stepped closer to Harry, close enough to feel his body heat. "I'm going with you. I'm fighting with you, you know that."

Harry nodded.

"So tell me, Potter. When was the last time someone was willing to stand this close to you in a fight?" Harry's eyes dropped to the ground. "When was the last time someone was willing to be close to you at all?"

"Shut up." Harry growled. He stepped forward, tangling his fingers in Draco's hair, and tugged him roughly forward. His lips sealed over Draco's as they Apparated out of there. "Just shut up."


	12. Chapter 11

Title: Bounty Hunter

Title: Bounty Hunter

Rating: R-ish

Author: Snippy

Pairing: H/D, Hr/SS (a little)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. do not belong to me. Sadly.

Summary: Warning: dark fic, character death and H/D slash. This story is not light and hope and puppies, people. The bounty hunter is going after the Death Eaters one by one, but at what price? This story is not about black and white, it's about shades of grey. Can people change? Can a hero become a villain? Can a villain save a hero? And which is which?

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Whether or not.

"What are we doing here, Potter?"

"Don't you know?" Harry raised an eyebrow, as he hopped up onto a long table. "This is his headquarters."

"I know that," Draco hissed. His hair fell over his stormy eyes, and his lips were still bruised from the aching kiss he and Harry had just shared.

"We need to make a few things clear between us, Malfoy," Harry said calmly.

"Oh? And what's that, Potter?" Draco snarled softly.

"I don't like you."

"Could've fooled me," Draco smirked.

"I know." Harry's eyes were impassive stone. Draco felt his breath hitch in his throat.

"I don't like you, either, Potter."

"Yes, you do," Harry said grimly, standing once more. He crossed his arms over his chest. "You like me, because I'm a symbol of the light. And you hope that somehow, you can be redeemed. I don't like you, because you remind me of the dark, and how easy it is to get tempted, to get lost in the grey."

"Harry - " Draco was spinning. Harry was talking in a very matter of fact way, and the metaphors in combination with that brought a feeling of swift panic, like a hunch that maybe you should have gone the other way.

"No, just listen." Harry stopped him. "Last night was not about emotion, that's why I didn't let you - well, it was physical. I don't like you. I'm not in love with you. And I don't need you."

"Likewise, Potter." For a moment, Draco thought he saw a flash of hurt in Harry's eyes as they met, but it vanished.

"But I'm willing to use you, in this fight." Harry held the eye contact. "You'll probably die. You need to know that." Harry held out his hand. "What I need to know is, will you still come? Will you still fight? Will you follow me?"

Draco never hesitated. "Into hell and back."

"Good." Harry pretended the warmth spreading through him from his hand was anticipation. He almost believed himself. He held Draco's gaze for a moment, and then, with a wicked flash of his green eyes, he swept from the room, moving outside across grass, cold and wet with dew. Ahead of them, was a half circle of cloaked figures. One man stood in the middle.

Harry came within ten feet of the wizard, and swept into a deep, mocking bow.

"Draco, you've met my friend, Tom, haven't you?"

* * *

Snape walked cautiously into the room where Hermione and Ginny were waiting for him. Ginny had forced him to carry Hermione into the building and set her on a couch, then leave the room while Ginny administered an Ennervate charm and a Pepper Up Potion. He stopped in front of Hermione, who was standing with her arms crossed, wondering how angry she would be.

Hermione stepped forward and without ceremony kicked him in the shin. "Dumbass."

"Sorry," he murmured, his lips twitching with laughter.

"We're going. All of us," she stated firmly.

"Alright," he acquiesced.

"Alright?" Her eyebrow raised.

"Of course, you two will stay behind me, and listen to me when I say things like 'Duck!' and 'Run!', but other than that, alright." Snape's eyes glittered. "After all, I want to see how it ends."

Hermione slid her hand in his, and leaned up to quickly kiss him. "Thank you."

"Your most welcome," He smiled gently at her. "But if you get hurt, I'm locking us back up in a cell for the rest of our lives."

"Promise?"

"Ew," Ginny said in a resigned tone.

"Miss Weasley?" Snape held out his other hand to her, and she felt a comforting warmth spread through her.

"Ok, but just for the record, I'm not included in that locked up in a cell part." She tucked her hand in his. "Understood?"

"Understood," They both repeated, amusement evident in their tone.

They headed out to the rose garden once more.

"So, one thing I don't understand," Hermione's face twisted in confusion. "Why did Harry send you a letter." She looked stricken. "Not that there's anything wrong with that or - or -"

"I get it, Hermione. It's ok," Ginny said calmly. "No offense taken. Harry didn't send you a letter because he knew you'd come after him, alone. He sent me the letter because he knows that I would show it to you, and insist on going with you."

"So, he wants us there?"

"Stupid boy," Snape snapped. "He just doesn't think - "

"It's not about thinking," Ginny cut him off. "It's about knowing. And he knows that he's going to win."

"You still think he's a hero," Snape accused.

"I do. That's the other reason he sent me the letter. I still believe," Ginny smiled. "And Professor Snape?"

"Yes," He scowled, though the effect was lost by the fact that he was holding her and Hermione's hands gently as they walked.

"He is."

* * *

"Harry Potter . . . " Voldemort hissed. "We meet again."

"So we do. Nice place you got here," Harry said flippantly, gesturing at the Forest. "Dark. Cold. Ugly. Vaguely creepy. Suits you."

Voldemort ignored the sarcasm. "And young Mr. Malfoy."

Draco raised his chin but said nothing.

"I suppose you're going to tell me you're his prisoner?" Voldemort's red eyes flashed angrily, venom dripping from his voice at this betrayal. "Do not bother. I can smell you all over him."

"Well, that's just . . . gross," Draco commented.

Behind the Dark Lord, the Death Eaters were bristling in indignation, but were reluctant to step towards Malfoy while he stood next to the Bounty Hunter, even in their Dark Lord's presence.

"Silence!" Voldemort snapped. "You, my cowering Death Eaters, will not fight today." His eyes settled on Harry. "I will kill the boy myself, and you will see for yourselves the power that I hold."

"Boy?" Harry scoffed. "You couldn't kill me when I was a boy. You couldn't kill me when I was a baby."

Voldemort opened his mouth to reply, but Harry was done talking. Pulling out his wand, he cast Cruciatus at the Dark Lord. Spurred into action, Voldemort pulled his own wand, casting Avada Kedavra. As before, their wands locked, but this time Harry let his go. As Harry's wand drifted toward Voldemort's outstretched hand, he smiled in triumph. Then, he was hit with by Cruciatus. Harry smirked, but his eyes showed no amusement.

His practice with wandles magic had paid off. Of course, Voldemort was proficient with it as well, but he had not expected Harry to be. Voldemort recovered from the curse more quickly than Harry had anticipated, but he betrayed no surprise.

"That was very foolish. When I'm done, you'll wish you had never been born," the Dark Lord hissed.

"Too late. I already do," Harry smiled grimly. "Is that all you got?"

And the dueling began. Curses flew through the like razor sharp darts with lethal accuracy. Draco watched Harry in something akin to awe as he deflected hex after hex with an easy wave of his hand. Gone was the boy who had trembled before the Dark Lord next to the body of Cedric Diggory. Voldemort cast Cruciatus, and Draco remembered Harry's words to him the day before.

/Something else - Crucio doesn't hurt you?/

/It can, if I'm alone when I'm hit./

/And if you're not alone?/

/Then it doesn't hit me./

/It doesn't -/

/It hits someone else. Whoever's closest./

Draco winced, preparing for the pain, but Harry snapped his fingers and a shield appeared around Draco. For a moment, Draco just stared at Harry, a wave of unexpected emotion filling him. Harry had saved him. The Death Eaters watched with morbid fascination as the curse deflected off of Harry, hit the shield and came full force back at the Bounty Hunter.

As the curse hit Harry, he felt the pain spread through his body. He let it touch every nerve, let it sharpen his sense, ground him in reality and spark the deep well of tightly leashed fury that had kept him alive all these years. The Dark Lord paused in his assault to gloat over his imminent victory as Harry's body shook and his eyes closed. Then as if in slow motion, Harry stilled. He raised his head slowly.

Draco's heart stopped, then restarted, each single beat echoed fiercely in his chest, thundering like a war drum one beat at a time in his ears, building to an explosion, as he watched the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry's eyes opened. _**(Beat)**_

He looked at Riddle through lowered lashes. _**(Beat)**_

A feral grin crossed his face. _**(Beat)**_

Green eyes glinted wickedly. _**(Beat)**_

Bring it on. **_(Boom)_**

Harry moved forward, his spells now coming effortlessly with precision, while Voldemort defended himself with a wild desperation, enraged that the Cruciatus had not worked. Harry turned slightly to the side, reaching one hand back towards Draco. Instinctively, Draco sensed what he wanted and grabbed Harry's hand readily. As before, Draco felt his magic being pulled out of his body. Harry's voice carried over the grounds. _"Lex Talionis!"_

Every curse Voldemort has cast in the past hour hit him at once, and he fell heavily against a tree for support. In a stunning display of speed and finesse, Harry pinned the Dark Lord to the tree in a full body bind. There was fear in Riddle's eyes.

* * *

Hermione held her breath, clutching Snape's hand tightly in both of her own, and slowly opened her eyes. They had waited for Snape's Dark Mark to activate, then used it to find Voldemort. Looking around, she realized they had Apparated into the Forbidden Forest behind Hogwarts.

"What are we doing here?"

"Surely, you knew," Ginny gaped at her from where she stood on the other side of Snape, still grasping his hand as well.

"Knew what?"

"This is where his base of operations is," Snape answered darkly. "This is where he has been hiding."

Hermione's eyes narrowed with anger, her expression saying clearly, without words, "How dare he!"

"Makes sense," Ginny whispered absently, letting go of Snape's hand as she looked around. "Hogwarts was once his home, too. Just like Harry."

"Not like Harry," Hermione said sharply, a feeling of dread settling heavy in her stomach.

Ginny just stared back at her, obliquely.

"Come on, this way," Snape whispered, tugging Hermione forth as Ginny followed.

He cast a camouflaging spell on them, taking them further into the woods. Up ahead, they spotted a circle of people, some standing within the treeline. In the center of the circle stood Harry and Draco. Voldemort appeared to be bound against a tree. Hermione covered her mouth with her hands to stop any sound of surprise. Ginny indicated a fallen tree that would provide them with a little more cover besides the spell. Quickly, they all knelt behind the tree, peeking over it through sparse branches. Hermione cast a silencing charm on them to be safe. Looking over at Ginny, she saw that the younger witch was shaking. She wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to her chest. Ginny set one hand on top of Hermione's, balancing on the other.

"So, tell me one more time, Miss Granger, just why we are here?" Snape hissed fiercely.

"Because," She hissed back, remembering Harry's promise. "I'm supposed to be."

"And I want to see how it ends," Ginny added, grimly.

"Then what am I doing here?" Snape questioned wryly.

"Because you go where I go, and I go where you go," Hermione answered simply.

Severus stared at her for a moment, expression inscrutable. Then, careful not to dislodge her hold on Ginny, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her firmly into his side and adjusted his cloak to cover her shoulders. He rested his chin on the top of her head and whispered, "Always."

Moving away slightly, she twisted around, pressing her lips to his. He kissed her back fiercely. Then a sharp sound from Ginny drew their attention.

"What? What is it?" Hermione demanded, eyes frantically scanning the fight.

"He's losing," Ginny breathed.

"Harry?"

"Tom."

* * *

Voldemort started to struggle but before he could escape, Harry released him. Voldemort eyed Harry warily. "What are you about, boy?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Harry grinned in satisfaction.

"Harry - what are you doing?" Draco asked softly behind him.

"Shut up, Draco," he hissed.

"Could it be you've come to your senses? We could be great together, you know," the Dark Lord promised.

"Sorry, I'm taken," Harry smirked, turning to grab Draco by his shirt collar and tug him forward for a brief, fierce kiss, before turning back to Voldemort. "Besides, the snake look really doesn't do a lot for me."

"Don't be foolish. You could have power beyond your wildest dreams. I could help you." He now stood a mere few feet from Harry, his stance pleading instead of threatening.

"Tom, Tom, Tom . . ." Harry sighed. "I already do. More power than you can ever tap into."

Riddle seemed taken aback, incredulous. Perhaps Harry didn't understand what he was talking about. It was impossible that Harry didn't want more power, impossible that he could be more powerful without the Dark Lord's help. A thought occurred to him, and his eyes lit up shrewdly. "You don't believe me."

"Could be the dark, scary voice that's throwing him off," Draco speculated.

"I can give you anything you want - everything!" Riddle promised, trying to convince himself he had a chance of swaying Harry.

"Anything?" Harry drawled.

"Yessss," Tom hissed. "There must be something you want."

Harry's eyes flashed, his mind replaying the last 22 years. I want Moody, Remus, and Sirius, alive and well and arguing with each other at the Shrieking Shack. I want Cho, Seamus, Terry and Dennis, sharing coffee at the Ministry together. I want Hermione's eyes to never be haunted by curses she's cast or red from tears again. I want to go back to the Burrow, with Ron laughing at my side. I want Ginny not to fear me. I want my innocence back. "Yes, there's something I want."

"Yesss?" Voldemort mockingly hissed, glaring at Harry with the kind of hatred so powerful it can only come from fear. Harry looked into those red eyes, and knew why Voldemort hated him. Because when he looked into Harry's verdant eyes, he saw what his fellow aurors had seen. The end. Tom jerked at the anger in Harry's voice, realizing what was about to happen. His silken persuasion turned to a cold sneer. "Let me guess. You want your parents back."

"No." Harry's smirk turned sinister. "I want your slow, painful death - you half-blood bastard."

In one fluid movement, Harry drew his sword, set his hand on Voldemort's shoulder and slid the blade into his stomach until he felt it push through his back. Harry felt blood pool hotly between them as Tom made an anguished choking sound, falling heavily against Harry's chest. Harry bared his teeth in a satisfied facsimile of a smile. Then with a sharp twist of his wrist, he turned the sword before wrenching it from Riddle's body. Harry stepped back, letting the other Wizard fall to the ground.

Tom panted heavily, trying to speak, to scream at Harry in rage and pain and fear, but he kept choking on the blood rising in his throat. Harry watched him bleed out into the ground with grim satisfaction. Tom was ashy and pale, shaking. Harry knelt by him, meeting his eyes.

"You see, Tom?" Harry's voice was gentle. "It was all for nothing - all your planning, the power you gained, the lives you took. It changes nothing." He smiled viciously. "You're still worthless. And all the power in the world can't make you a pureblood. The only reason you were allowed in Slytherin was because you're his heir. Imagine his shame, if he knew his only heir was a a half-blood." Harry leaned back on his heels for a moment. "I almost forgot. Ginny sends her regards." Voldemort looked at him blankly. "Of course, you don't remember her. Do you remember the diary you preserved your sixteen year old self in? Well, she's the girl that helped me destroy it." Harry's smirk widened as the last twinge of hope faded from Voldemort's eyes. "That's right, it's gone. And now, what's worst of all?" Harry asked softly. He leaned in close to Voldemort's face again. "You're going to die, Tom."

Harry got to his feet, taking a few steps back, to grasp Draco's hand tightly. Draco noticed idly, that Harry's hand was wet with blood, and now it was on his hand, too. Harry stretched his free hand out. "Accio wand!"

"P-p-potter!" Tom spat, finally managing to choke out words. "You kill me - you become me."

"So be it," Harry whispered. Squeezing Draco's hand, Harry said steadily, "Avada Kedavra."

And the red eyes closed, never to open again. Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort was dead.

One by one, the Death Eaters came forward until they surrounded their fallen leader, The Last Malfoy, and Harry Potter, the Bounty Hunter, in a wide circle. Harry gripped his sword tighter, tugging Draco behind him protectively. Then, as one, they dropped to their knees and bowed. Their message was clear. Harry turned to Draco, reaching out, tangling his red-

stained hands in the fine blond hair, and pulled him into a hungry kiss, full of victory and satisfaction. Pulling back, panting slightly, Harry touched his forehead to Draco's. "Did you mean what you said? Do you still mean to follow me?"

"Into hell and back," Draco swore once more, allowing himself one more kiss before letting Harry go.

Harry turned back to the circle of Death Eaters kneeling in subjugation. Resting the tip of his blade on the ground and leaning on it, Harry drawled,"Well. This leaves me with quite a dilemma."

"Whether or not to kill them?" Draco asked darkly.

"No," Harry smirked, his eyes turning a venomous shade of deep green. He raise his blade in a mocking salute, letting the edge touch his scar. "Whether or not to lead them."

The End?


	13. Epilogue

_**Title: Bounty Hunter II: Black and White:**_

_**A/N's: Ha! I finally did it – the sequel. This teaser will be the final chapter ever added to Bounty Hunter., but lucky for those of you interested, I already have five chapters up on Just do a chapter search or click on my penname. Hope you like it. For now, consider the following and epilogue:**_

_No, whether or not to lead them . . . ._

_Harry's dark words echoed in Draco's head as he stared around at his father's cronies. He opened his mouth to speak, his brain desperately searching for words to fit the situation – a sarcastic comment to buy him time, words of wisdom to impart – but he was came up blank. He stood next to Harry, watching apprehensively the dark gleam in his green eyes, noticed his dirty, exhausted and bruised body, the way his soul felt, and had absolutely no idea what to say._

_Suddenly, a loud roar akin to rolling thunder rumbled over the grounds. A shrieking wind shot out of the Forbidden Forest and a bolt of lightning ripped through the sky traveling down Harry's uplifted sword and encasing him in electric light. The hum of the power of the bolt vibrated along Draco's spine, raising his hair and warmly stroking his skin like a lover's caress. A deafening boom sounded, the earth shook._

_Draco felt himself fly though the air. His mind no longer blank, he tried to call out for Harry. Through the haze, he thought he saw something being propelled towards the woods. Then he hit the ground, striking his head on a large rock and everything went black. His mind blank once more._


End file.
